Chronicles of Gozer
by Fritz Baugh
Summary: 2004.  Twenty one years before, the original Ghostbusters defeated Gozer.  Now, an artifact related to the ancient evil has surfanced, and it may take the worldwide resources of Ghostbusters International to prevent the horror to come...
1. May 27 and 28, 2004

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

* * *

Previously:

In 1983, parapsychology professors Peter Venkman, Ray Stantz, and Egon Spengler were thrown out of Columbia University. They went into business for themselves as Ghostbusters Inc, the worlds first professional paranormal investigators and eliminators. With fourth Ghostbuster Winston Zeddemore and intrepid secretary Janine Melnitz, the fivesome battled many powerful entities, starting with the Sumerian demon lord Gozer the Gozarian.

It is twenty one years later. They now oversee a worldwide franchising body known as Ghostbusters International, and have started families of their own. Their protgs, the so-called "Extreme Ghostbusters" protect New York City day-to-day.

In 2002, three paranormal enthusiasts in England found themselves embroiled in a supernatural assassination scheme centered on the Prime Minister. After helping the famous original Ghostbusters defeat the menace, they became Ghostbusters UK. After several setbacks, they have realigned with the help of Ghostbuster and wizard Vincent Belmont.

In 2003, the death of a movie director at the hands of a disgruntled former employee who sold his soul for power led to the creation of GBIs largest franchise, the Los Angeles-based Ghostbusters West Coast. The GBWC has just won their greatest victory, over the Egyptian death-god Anubis, but in the process endured the sacrifice of one teammate, and the strange disappearance of a second

* * *

Quick Note: This story was originally written before _Ghostbusters: The Video Game_ was even announced. It does not take any of the revelations of that game into account.

* * *

**May 27th, 9:15am, Canada(EST)  
Ghostbusters Omnibus Timeline Year Twenty-Two  
12 days until the end of the world.**

**Toronto, Canada**

* * *

They had been open for three weeks without a single call. Although Ghostbusters International Franchises often have difficulty getting started, this was beyond belief. Toronto was a large city; dense with PKE readings which over the months had steadily been growing worse. In fact, all over the world the readings had been increasing drastically, with little corresponding rise in spectral activity. Something grandiose was brewing, and the newly founded Ectoplasmic Containment Team Of Canada, " E.C.T.O. Canada," was already running short of funds.

"This isnt good," remarked Brian "Reilly" Walker, co-founder of E.C.T.O Canada and resident mechanic. "Downtown Torontos PKE density has doubled in little over a day. We should investigate."

"Investigate? Are you crazy? Whos gonna pay us to investigate?" Chris asked, sounding almost angry. Chris Davis was the more sensible of the two. He was gung-ho, but not to the point of chasing down ghosts for no reason. That would eliminate customers, and put them out of business. But Chris had other reasons for doing this too. He was also honoring his lost brother, Julian, as a fighter of evil spirits.

"I just want a chance to test out my PowerTrap." said Brian slyly. He was a little gung-ho, and very sarcastic. He had a knack for inventions, and the PowerTrap was his latest.

"What is that thing, anyways?" asked Chris, only half interested.

"Its basically a trap and proton pack stuffed into a grenade." Brian explained. "When armed, it gives the user thirty-seconds to throw it before it sends out multiple proton streams, and then sucks the entity into it."

"That sounds pretty cool..." said Chris, more interested now.

"Well, it has its limitations. For one, it relies on the PowerCell technology found in certain proton pack revisions, and it can only be used once before it needs a new cell. In addition, since the cell powers the trap as well, its proton streams are significantly weaker than those of a real pack. Of course, that doesnt mean it wont destroy any breakables in the surrounding area. Its equally effective in that aspect."

"So then, what is it good for?"

"Trapping entities without having to get close. I just dont know how useful it will be against more powerful entities such as demons and stronger manifestations. If I could find a better power source..."

Chris knew what was coming. Brian would drone on about his weird theories and start scribbling numbers and symbols on the blackboard. And drone he did. He snatched a piece of chalk up from the table and was writing before his hand touched the chalkboard. He wouldnt finish for hours, and he certainly wouldnt notice if Chris quietly slipped out of the room... which he did.

**(9:30am)**

Downstairs, Chris sat at a wooden reception desk in the garage and gazed at his surroundings. The desk was littered with papers, mostly faxes from GBI and bills for electricity. Chris had his feet propped up on a stack of said faxes that had already been read and were waiting to be filed. Waiting until they hired a secretary to file them, that is.

The empty firehall was in need of some serious work. They had purchased it from the city who had it condemned due to much needed repairs and a lack of funding.

Ghostbusters International recommended that all franchises use a firehall as their base of operations, so Chris and Brian leapt at the chance to purchase it so cheap. Unfortunately, they did not realize the extent of the work that needed to be done.

The main support beams on the ground level all had to be replaced before they could even move in. That took two weeks. Then, after finally getting the containment unit installed, they found the basement water pipes in need of replacing. Brians design called for liquid cooling to keep from overheating, and rusted out lead pipes did not make the cut.

There were good surprises too, though. For one, unlike most firehalls, the wiring was surprisingly up to date. It seemed that this firehalls basement was equipped to be a fallout center, complete with own backup generators and high voltage cable already installed. The generators needed a little work, tightening a few bolts here and there, not to mention being cleaned and oiled, but would easily be enough to ensure that the containment unit stayed online during power outages.

Then, there were the re-enforced walls and ceilings. In the event of a massive containment failure, it would be very unlikely to cause major structural damage to the building. The original Ghostbusting team had encountered such troubles, and it was good to know that E.C.T.O. Canada was already prepared.

_-BEEP BEEP BEEEEEP-_

Chris looked up. A fax was coming in from Ghostbusters International. There was always a fax coming in; usually about some new merchandise or pricing plans, or miscellaneous marketing paperwork. Chris glanced at the papers and saw that one of GBWCs members, Jeremy Hicks, had gone missing. He rolled his eyes and crumpled up the notice as he threw it into the trash.

"What the hell would he be doing in Canada, anyways?", Chris muttered to himself as he headed back upstairs.

**(10:00am)**

"Brian," Chris called out as he entered the room, "We just got another fax from GBI. Jeremy Hicks of GBWC is missing. Keep your eyes open."

"What would he be doing in Canada?" Brian asked sleepily, being drawn out of the mathematical trance he was still in at the chalkboad.

"Obviously hes not in Canada, lunkhead!" Chris replied, "But theyve probably just got one send list that goes to all the franchises. Saves em a lot of time from having to send a bunch out to each franchise. This is pathetic..."

"Whats pathetic, now?"

"This! Sitting around with nothing to do..."

"_Some_ of us are working, you know."

"Whatever. We should be out catching ghosts. I bet those other Canadian Ghostbusters have their phones ringing off the hook. Maybe we should move out to the east coast?" Chris was getting anxious.

"Maybe not." retorted Brian flatly.

Chris walked into the next room and turned on the TV. Some news show was on, so he flipped channels. More news. "Jesus. theres news on evey damn channel! Is it me, or is Toronto really lacking in quality TV stations?"

"Red Green should be on right now. Try channel nine."

"News."

"News?" asked Brian. He wasnt paying any attention at all.

"Yes, news. Thats what I said." Chris replied. He was starting to get a little red in the face.

"Are you sure?" Brian wondered, still not looking, and probably not caring.

"Im postive, Brian. Im starting right at the freakin set. Do you think I could be right here and not know what Im talking about?" Chris was getting upset now. His crazy vein was popping out of his forehead. He hated it whenever Brian was too busy to pay attention.

"Well, then it must be something important, turn up the volume."

"Important my ass..." muttered Chris. He turned up the volume anyways, extra loud so Brian would have to listen, too.

_"...a few injured, but so far, no fatalities. The Police have been unable to stop the man, or either of his bears..."_

"See, just some nutball walking around town with two bears-waitaminute. Those are Terror Dogs!"

"Right," said Brian sarcastically. "As if youd know what a Terror Dog looks like; You slept through the whole GBI info session on catalogued supernatural entities."

"Did not, I stayed awake for the Terror Dog part." Chris angrily replied, "Saw em on TV when I was a kid, wanted one for a pet."

"Im sure theyd make great pets, too..." said Brian, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, Ive never seen one attack its master before. Have you? Besides, Im telling you, man, those things are Terror Dogs!"

Brian walked over to the TV and looked at the screen, humouring Chris. What he saw made his blood run cold.

"Shit."

As soon as Chris heard Brian utter the word, he knew it was bad. And in Chris mind, bad meant action. "Ill grab the packs, you warm up the car!" Chris said excitedly, running for the firepole. Brian ran after him, slid down the pole, and at the bottom, they quickly changed into their uniforms. Brian headed for the hearse.

It was a 59 Caddy, like the original Ghostbusters, only this one was strictly a hearse, not a combination model. They had retrofitted it with sirens, and painted it black with orange fins. The orange and green no-ghost emblem that served as E.C.T.O. Canadas logo proudly emblazoned its sides, and adorned the hood in ornament form.

Since it was a hearse, it already had the rollers needed to harness the rack for the proton packs. However, it did not have the electrical system of an ambulance, and as such, had to be rewired to make the roof rack operational.

Brian grasped the chrome handle, and swung open the polished black door. He got inside, admired the perfectly restored interior for a second, and put the key into the silver ignition. He turned, and with a loud groan, and then a sigh, the Ectomobile refused to start.

He gave the car a little gas, and tried again. This time it turned over, and the engine purred softly. Brian got out of the car and went around back, opening the door for Chris so he could load the packs.

"You know, we really havent had a successful test of all this equipment yet..." Chris reminded.

"Now dont start that again. Lets go," commanded Brian as he climbed back into the drivers seat.

"How come you always get to drive?" smirked Chris as they headed out for their first bust.

**(11:00am)**

"Well, its still standing. Thats a good sign" remarked Chris, referring to the CN Tower.

"Har har," Brian was not amused. This was bad and he knew it. Understandably, he was not in the mood for jokes.

"Yeesh, this must be bad-Hey! There he is!" Chris said, pointing to the base of the tower.

The stranger, a young man wearing glasses, walked past the base of the tower. He paid the Ghostbusters no attention, regardless of the lights and siren on the car. On each side of him, walked a horrific beast, powerful and muscular. Their grey and leathery skin was stretched over its muscular frame, like some hellish pit bull. Their eyes were a deep scarlet, and their horns stretched on either side of their head. They were the "Terror Dogs." Great beasts encountered by the Ghostbusters in 1983.

"So what do we do?" asked Chris.

"I guess we find out what it wants." replied Brian, exiting the vehicle, and walking towards the stranger.

Chris followed closely with his thrower drawn. He wasnt too worried about the stranger, but the Terror Dogs worried him. Those things probably _weighed_ about six hundred pounds each, and they were solid muscle and teeth.

Brian however, just followed his PKE Meter. Sometimes, he was so oblivious to danger...Chris shook his head just thinking about it. It made them a good team. Not really brains and brawn, as both were relatively equals on all playing fields. No, it was more like Chris didnt have the patience for more tedious studies, while Brian fancied himself more of a scientist than an exterminator.

As they neared the stranger, the dog on his left turned and began to snarl at the busters. Brian stopped dead in his tracks, and Chris bumped into him. The resulting collision got the attention of the stranger, who, with the other dog, turned and glared.

The busters got to their feet and Brian drew his thrower. They stood there, eyeing the stranger, while the stranger eyed them back.

"What do you want?" asked Brian.

The stranger just stared back in reply. Suddenly, he pointed at the logo on Chris arm.

"Uhh, yeah, were um, the Ghostbusters?" said Chris.

The stranger just stared upwards until large white and blue sparks began to shoot from is eyes.

"This cant be good," lamented Brian, right before twin bolts of deep blue lightning shot out of the strangers eyes and into the clouds above.

"Definitely not good!" cried Chris as he ran for cover.

The clouds began to swirl, and the sky turned a deep purple. Chris and Brian set up between two parked cars and aimed their proton guns carefully. Brian glanced behind him, a small crowd was forming, drawn, most likely, by the sirens of the Ectomobile, which were still running.

"Fire on three?" asked Chris in a worried tone.

"One...Two...THREE!" counted Brian, turning his gaze back to the stranger. Both busted fired, and the streams, arced wildly back and forth, forcing the new busters to brace themselves. Before the streams could reach the stranger, a large, horned beast, ripped with muscles and a head jammed with teeth, burst forth through the sky in a flash of lightning and got caught in the beams.

"Not exactly what we were aiming for, but still good" remarked Chris, reaching for his trap. The crowd cheered, not realizing that it was not the intended target.

"Its another terror dog. This is bad. Very bad." said Brian flatly. Suddenly, there was another flash and another terror dog appeared.

"Uh oh..." trailed Chris. The flashes continued, getting faster and faster, until there were over twenty of the beasts in a matter of seconds. The beasts were attacking civilians at random, and although the flashes had slowed, it was clear that they were not going to stop anytime soon.

"Minions of the Traveler, protect your master!" The stranger began to rant.

"Well, I suppose that means hes in control of them. As if there was ever any doubt..." trailed Chris.

_"...we will take this world and its puny inhabitants..."_

"Indeed." replied Brian. "The flashes are slowing. Perhaps he can only bring forth so many?"

_"...they shall be roasted in the depths of a sloar..."_

"It does stand to reason that, whoever this guy is, his power is limited in our dimension. Did you happen to notice what he called those things?" asked Chris.

_"...apocalypse shall come forth..."_

"Minions of the Traveler. You dont think he means-" Brian was cut off suddenly by the stranger who had begun to shout.

"THE FORMLESS DESTRUCTOR WILL PREVAIL!" cried the stranger, ending his rant. He turned and fled. Brian leapt over the hood of the parked car, and lunged after him, firing his proton gun wildly, attempting to cut him off. The stranger turned and began to run back towards Brian. Brian, shocked by the sudden changed in course, fired and caught him full stream. For a brief second the stranger look mildly amused, before throwing Brian thirty yards back with twin bolts of lightning.

Chis watched in disbelief as Brian was thrown back . "Apparently," thought Chris, "This guy has an immunity to proton streams."

There was no way Chris could hold him on his own. He tried to stay low as he unclipped a section of his belt, wrapping his fingers around a sleek metallic ball about the size of an orange. He felt around the the ribs on the top of the ball, keeping his eye on the stranger at all times, and placed his thumb on a tiny red button. Holding his breath, and shaking a bit of sweat from his brow, he armed the PowerTrap bomb.

"Soon as that bastard gets near to me, Im gonna fry his ass..." Chris whispered to himself. As the stranger neared, Chris lobbed the heavy weapon forward, hitting the him square in the chest, with a dull thud. The PowerTrap promptly fell to the ground with no effect. The stranger kept running, but as he passed Chris, he turned and looked back, and called to the terror dogs one last time:

"Return to your master!"

The terror dogs all stopped their destruction, and ran back through the portal. Although all the terror dogs had returned to whatever dimension they came from, the portal did not close. Deep blues and purples shimmered in the wide circle. Every now and then a bolt of deep blue lightning would crackle through the portal, causing it to grow slightly.

Brian slowly limped over to where Chris was now standing. He was holding the charred PowerTrap. "The thing just got fried when it hit him."

"Maybe my design isnt all that great..." said Brian half-heartedly.

"Or maybe he was just too damn powerful for it." replied Chris.

"Whatever it was, we need to send a bulletin to GBI about this...not to mention find a way to close that portal."

"I got a good look at the guy when he ran past me," stated Chris, "It was Hicks."

* * *

**Penkeridge****, England**

* * *

Class had finally ended. Sara Jones was cleaning up what the students had decided to leave on the floor.

"Little buggers don't know how much this equipment costs...Ought'a let them balance the budget for this place."

Just then, her cell phone rang. Just by the ring, she knew it was her father.

"Hello there kitten, how was school?" her father asked in his usual cheerful manner.

"It was fine dad. The students left everything on the floor again and I'm still picking it up. I think I'm going to have them spar without any padding tomorrow."

"That's my girl, always thinking of new ways to remind people to take care of their things. So, are you coming over for dinner tonight? Your mother made your favorite, spaghetti and meatballs."

"Yeah, I'll be coming over in an hour or so, right after I pick this place up."

"Alright, see you in a little bit, little bit." he chuckled.

"Alright daddy, bye."

She hung it up and continued cleaning. It was about twenty minutes later that she got done and locked up. She started walking towards her car, which was farther away than normal because someone had parked in her space before she got there. Oddly enough, the car was still parked there after 7pm.

"Stupid bastard," she thought to herself, "I'll find out who that car belongs to and break a piece of my mind off in his arse."

The only available space when she arrived was about 4 blocks up the street. It seemed odd that there was no one else out on the street at 7pm, and she knew there should've been. A surge of paranoia washed over her, and she started walking a little faster.

"If anyone tries anything, I'll be ready," she thought.

A shadowy figure appeared almost out of nowhere. It was like a great dog, with thick leathery skin and blood red eyes. Two long horns adorned its head like some hellish crown. It moved faster than anything she had seen before, almost like it wasn't stopped by gravity or friction, and flew at her. Right before it made contact with her, she jumped up and over, landing about ten feet away. Suddenly, a voice as piercing as any knife blasted through her head.

"You are feistier than my last host. But your efforts will be futile, just like the last time."

In the blink of an eye, it knocked down and pinned her on the ground.

"Bloody Hell!" her lips spat as she hit the ground.

It spoke again.  
"It was fun while it lasted mortal, but my time is now!"

Sarah didn't know what to call this beast, but one word sprung to mind before she blacked out: "Terror..."

She woke up half an hour later, only knowing she had made plans to have dinner with her parents.  
After finally getting to her car, Sarah got in and drove off still upset about the jerk that parked in her spot. She extended her middle finger at it as she passed. When she had turned the corner, a portal appeared under the offending car and swallowed it, then disappeared. A few minutes later, a smaller portal opened and the steering wheel popped out, and was followed by a belch that shook all the windows for two blocks, and then the portal closed. Sarah, by this time, was half way to her parents house when her cell phone rang. She didn't recognize the tone, but answered it anyway.

"Hello? This is Sarah."

_"Sarah? This is Tommy's mom, Sandy."_

She had to think for a second as to who she was talking to.

"Oh, Tommy Brown. And how are you?"

_"I'm fine. I'm sorry to tell you this, but I'm going to have to pull him out of your class. He's gotten so violent at school, and he says that the other kids started it. I hope you understand."_

"Yes I do. You do what you have to to keep him safe and out of trouble. Hopefully he'll be able to rejoin the class when he calms down."

_"I do to Sarah. I'll talk to you later then. Bye,"_ she said before she hung up. Sarah hung her cell phone up and put it back in its little cubby hole in the car.

After getting to her parents house, she told them what had happened to make her a little late.

"So there was this jerk who parked his bloody car in my spot, and the nearest spot was four blocks up."

"So you let him stay in your spot," her father quipped after he had finished his fork full of spaghetti.

"Of course she did dear, we raised her better than that. It's not like she kicked dents in his doors and broke his windows," her mother added.

"Oh believe me, I was tempted," Sarah confessed, "but I controlled myself. I'm gonna find out whose car it is and give him a piece of my mind."

"You could always use my lawyer and sue," her father jokingly suggested.

"Don't think I won't take you up on that offer dad," she responded playfully.

"Now, now children, let's not have what happened last time come back and bite us in the bum."

"Okay mom. We'll behave, mostly," Sarah said as she winked at her father.

"Yes dear," he replied as he winked back at her.

"Well, I should get going you two. I need to get to sleep."

"Alright honey, we'll see you later, but come're and give us a hug."

She gave her parents a hug, said good night to the butler, and walked to her car.

She started up her car and drove off. She felt like she had a huge headache when she reached her flat, so she took some Tylenol and practiced some martial arts katas to help her calm down. She never liked to go to bed angry. It caused her rent to go up in repair costs, because for some reason she punched holes in her walls when she slept while she was angry. After she was sufficiently calmed down, she went to her bedroom and changed into her bed clothes, a pair of shorts and a tank top. She then went to the bathroom and went to the bedroom. She suddenly had the urge to watch the news, so she turned on the television and was greeted by scenes of destruction that were coming from Toronto, Canada. Reports were that there was only property damage, no casualties. Not even an injury. And there was so much damage that she couldn't believe that there weren't any dead or injured.

"Oh well, at least there won't be any doctors bills for them," she thought as she turned off the tv.

Settling in for the night, she wondered if the same fate would befall London or another large city somewhere else. She wondered this until she fell into a deep, fitful sleep where nightmares reside.

She found herself looking out onto a strange skyline, roiling clouds and strange lightning coming from above and a sea of churning clouds below. Then, she saw it. She didn't know how to describe it, except that it looked like a stairway going up to what looked like a pyramid. An eerie light emitted from the very top of the pyramid. like some colossal torch in the distance. She then looked at the doors, and saw something staring back at her. It was the same creature that she had encountered near her car. It opened its hellish maw wide, and issued forth an infernal bellow.

"Zuuuuuuuuuuuuul!"

The sound filled her with nerve-wracking terror. Her body was frozen. She was unable to speak, to move, to scream...

It lunged at her with such surprising speed that it was upon her instantly. She shut her eyes, waiting for the impact, but felt nothing. She opened them and beheld a scene that was yet again unfamiliar to her. She was looking at the same scene, but it was different. The temple was again in her vision, but it was inside a building in a city. She blinked, and her perspective changed again. This time she was in a brightly lit room with the same creature she had seen earlier. There seemed to be only one way in or out, so she made a move toward the door. Before she made it, the door suddenly swung open and in came a beautiful woman in a chair being held by three inhuman hands. She blinked again, and she was in her flat. She moved around and came upon the bathroom mirror and looked. In the place of her face was the same horrible creature. She then let out a scream and ran. She ran into a wall, but instead passed through it as if she were made of nothing at all, and fell into darkness.

She woke up drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. She got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen and a Tylenol from the bathroom. She turned on the light and almost dropped her glass. When the light chased away the darkness of the room, seven cockroaches scurried down the sink drain.

"Dang, that was just plain gross," she thought.

She went back to bed and back into that dream.

She found herself in place she didn't recognize, but seemed strangely familiar. There was the pyramid again, but this time there were two of the creatures. There seemed to be something else there; something she couldn't see. It sent chills up her spine as the wind blew on her scantily clad body.

Her alarm pierced her senses, startling her awake. As she got up, she wondered what the day had in store for her...

* * *

**England (10:36pm)**

* * *

"Welcome to Britain," Greeted the cheery staff member who was checking the passports of the passengers as they disembarked from BA Flight 884. "Please state the nature of your visit, business or pleasure?"

The man she was talking to paused for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully.

"Pleasure." He replied with a slight hint of amusement. He then gave her his passport, she checked it, stamped it with a rubber stamp and handed it back.

"Enjoy your stay, sir." She replied.

"I'm sure I will." The man replied and gave her a smile. She couldn't quite put it down...but something about that smile made a shiver run up and down her spine.

* * *

**May 28th, 2004  
11 days until the end of the world.****  
England (5:46pm)**

* * *

The two teams of Ghostbusters UK sat in the recreation room. It was nearly time for the shift change so the Day Shift was rounding up their activities as the Graveyard Shift prepared themselves for twelve hours of duty. This was how things usually happened...though sometimes people stayed up longer then they were meant too...which had led to some unusual incidents over the previous year. Next to the door of the rec room, a blue light began to flash. This signified that the Day Shift had ended, and that the Graveyard Shift had begun.

"Right..." Ben King Sr. replied. "Here's the duty roster...plus a few tasks here and there that need to be done by active Ghostbusters..." He explained as he handed a clipboard to Dr. Vincent Belmont, the Graveyard Shift's leader.

"Understood." Vincent replied. "We'll brief you in the morning if anything happens."

"Thanks." Ben replied, he then slung his drained Proton Pack onto his shoulder and walked out of the room in the direction of the garage where he'd set it up for a recharge.

"Iain...before I forget..." Vincent looked over at GBUK's second in command. "We need to have a look over the Third Floor of the East Wing...in case we need to start developing it."

"Sure...just yell when you need me." Iain replied. With that said he left the room. Suddenly the room was sent into a commotion as a alarm bell began to ring. The Graveyard Shift charged out of the rec room and towards the reception.

"You guys have a job in..." Ben King Jr. paused as he read the note. "Nottingham...there's a ghost haunting a church there...sounds like a Poltergeist...the details are all there." He handed the note to Vincent.

"Thank-you...collect the Ecto-visors...we'll need them." He replied as the team made their way through the building's kitchen/dining area on their way to the garage/equipment area.

**(6:01pm)**

As Iain climbed the staircase he paused on the Second Floor landing and looked up towards the Third Floor. He moved along to the staircase to the Third Floor and climbed it. About half of the Third Floor was in use. The West Wing housed the library and VIP quarters...however the East Wing had remained derelict...partly due to a lack of funds to develop it and no need to use it...or at least there hadn't been a requirement when the HQ had been set up...but it had been determined that sooner or later they would need to develop it into a workable part of the HQ building.

He walked over to the metal door and pushed it open. The area was in a mess. Ceramic tiles and other parts of debris littered the floor as they hadn't been cleared away. As he walked, Iain shivered. He didn't know why but this part of the building gave him the creeps...it was so dark and miserable that something could hide there and be right on top of him before he knew what happened...of course...they had systems set up to tell them if anything was there that should'nt've been there. Still...there was something in the air that he didn't like. He approached the end of the hallway and stopped.

He studied the rooms to his left and right. On his right were the remains of what looked like some kind of testing room...and to his left a room which had been marked up as 'Solitary Confinement' on the building's floor plans. He entered the room. Sooner or later they'd need to conduct some type of examination...see what the rooms could be used for.

He paused. The rubber padding in the room had been decaying since the place had been shut down...but it still squeaked when stood on...except for one place. He walked back to the door, and then moved towards the center of the room.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

He re-walked that path several times, each time the pronounced difference in the squeaking floor was audible in the same place. He stooped down and felt around the rubber padding. To his surprise he found one of the large rummer squares had come loose...revealing a large black hole in its place. He extracted a penlight from his field belt and shone it into the hole. There was dust...and dirt...and what's that! Or...sorry...just more dirt.

"Hmmm." He mused, poking the shaft of light into the gloom. It strayed across something large and dusty. Iain placed the small penlight on the rubber-covered floor and put a hand into the hole in the floor. He wrestled for several minutes to snag the object, and then he finally got it. He pulled it out into the gloom and studied it. It was a book...a large one at that. Hardback...and it had obviously seen better days.

There was a strange language written on the cover, a language Iain didn't know. He stood up, grabbing his penlight as he went. For now he'd keep the thing locked up in his lab until he could run some tests on it in the morning...it could prove interesting.

**(6:25pm)**

Tommy turned over in his bed...something wasn't right. There was something tugging at the back of his mind...he frowned...it was...it was...

"Fire!" Tommy bolted upright...he could heard the fire alarm as it's shrill cry sounded outside in the hallway.

"Shit." He swore and jumped out of bed, following Ben and Roger as they charged down the corridor. They charged down into the reception area and followed the smoke to Iain's lab. Inside the found him pouring the contents of a fire extinguisher onto a rapidly burning pile of papers...after a few moments the fire was out and the alarm was dead. "Would someone tell me just what happened!" Tommy shouted.

"Well...err..." Iain began, scratching the back of his head. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Tommy fumed. "There was a fire in your lab and you didn't know what caused it...or that it had even started?"

"Well, I wouldn't quite say that it's more like... yeah you're right." Iain replied.

"Godammit..." Tommy swore. "Then at least find out what caused that fire...in the morning?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah...sure." Iain replied sitting down at the now scorched desk.

"Hey," Ben replied, clamping a hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Look on the bright side...we've had a successful Fire Drill at the expense of some papers...I say we've had a good bit of luck."

"Always trying to find a way to get everyone out of trouble, aren't you?" Tommy asked with a non-impressed look on his face.

"Hey...you owe it to these guys, they follow you into seven shades of living hell every week...I say small accidents like this are a by product."

"Remind me...and you don't need to see a shrink?" Tommy asked.

"My meeting is next Thursday...I swear." He held up a hand in defense as a big grin appeared on his face. "Just get some sleep...it's only..." He looked at his watch. "Okay...it's nearly eight...you can still get a half hour's worth of sleep."

"I think I'll pass." Tommy replied as they reached the kitchen.

**(7:02pm)**

"I just can't work out what could've caused that fire." Iain replied to Roger as he studied a partially-melted PKE Meter. He then looked at the scortched desk...and then he rotated his head and looked over at the book. After looking at the book he turned back to the PKE Meter and then the desk. "No...it could'nt have been...could it?"

"Couldn't what?" Roger asked.

**(7:45pm)**

Iain sat at his workbench as he applied a screwdriver to the back of the PKE Meter's fire damaged case. He removed the back plate and studied the interior circuitry. He'd been wanting to purchase some of the new Mark 3.0 PKE Meters...however the team was still using the Mark 2.1s.

The Mark 2.1s were based off of the redesigned appearance and construction of the PKE Meter designed at the New York Head Office in 1997. However the Mark 2.1 was much more safety-proofed then the Mark 2.0 of the 1984-1989 period of GBI's operating. Iain picked up a pair of tweezers and began to prod about inside the charred interior of the PKE Meter.

"Hmm." He mused. He then ran his stool over to a bookcase which contained tomes, textbooks and GBI equipment manuals. He slid a hand across the spines of the books until he reached a particular book titled: 'PKE Meter: Operation, Repair and Calibration. THIRD EDITION'. He pulled the textbook out of the bookcase and opened the book to the contents page. He scanned the lines of text until he found the entry for the PKE Meter Mark 2.1. He then opened the book at the appropriate page and studied the diagram of the interior circuitry. He then read the details on circuit damage.

_"Circuit damage is usually the result of an overload of PKE energy. However, circuit damage has been recorded in the past due to overcharging of the built-in battery storage...for more details on overcharging please see the appendix on **Electrical Problems, Paragraph Two.** The most common difference in the PKE Meter Mark 2.1 (1997) from the previous incarnations of the PKE Meter is it's electronics layout, and the addition of a surge protector which can combat against the overloads created by PKE powered matricies of certain varieties...for more details please see Casefile GBNY-1983-1/103, GB codeword: WATT. However, this system is less protected for overloads then the Mark 3.0 PKE Meter (Introduced in 2003) which is now equipped with a redundancy circuit designed to protect the interior circuitry from overload, at present the Mark 3.0 PKE Meter is the most up to date variant of the design investigated and then eventually constructed by New York staff member Professor Egon Spengler during his time as a student at Columbia University in 1973..."_

Iain looked back at the PKE Meter's interior...if he'd got the gist of it...then something may've overloaded the interior workings of the PKE Meter...and if so...what? He slid his stool over to a metal desk near the door and opened a drawer. He then pulled out a second Mark.3 which he had stored in the lab. He then stood by the door and switched it on. For a few moments the PKE Meter worked fine...then suddenly the screen was maxed out and a small explosion erupted from the back of the device.

"Ya!" Iain dropped the flaming device, he then snagged the fire extinguished and put out the fire. He then looked in the direction he had pointed the PKE Meter...and spotted the book with the strange language on the title.

**(7:55pm)**

"Okay...I think..._think_ I've found the source of the fire." Iain announced as he entered the break room, charred PKE Meter in hand. "Now...do you want the good news...or the bad news?" Iain asked. Tommy, perched in one of the armchairs with a copy of _Top Gear_ Magazine, placed the magazine in his lap, over by the card table Ben paused in his game of Solitaire to turn and listen to what Iain was about to say.

"Bad news first." Tommy replied. Iain blanched.

"I really think you'd want to know the good news first." Iain replied hesitantly. Tommy released a slightly irritated sigh and then looked straight at Iain.

"Okay...what's the good news?" He asked.

"Okay...good news is the fire was caused by the PKE Meter..." He held up the charred PKE Meter. "This PKE Meter." He then handed the PKE Meter to Tommy who took it, turned it over in his hand, handed it to Ben to examine and then turned to face Iain. "Okay...now what is the bad news?" Tommy asked.

"What caused that..." He pointed at the PKE Meter which Ben was holding. "And another PKE Meter to burst into flames."

"You know those things cost thirty pounds to replace?" Tommy asked shrewdly.

"Err...yeah." Iain replied. "Do you guys want to see what I'm talking about or not?" Iain asked with a slight hint of annoyance.

"Sure." Tommy replied, getting up from the chair, moments later Ben followed, charred PKE in hand as they went to Iain's lab.

**(8:12pm)**

"I was poking around the third floor of the East Wing last night...and I found this book hidden under the padded floor." Iain explained as they entered the lab and walked towards a metal work table set in the centre of the room, sat upon it was the book Iain had found...in the daylight it seemed even more ominous then it had at night. The book was old, it's leather spine was creased along the edges, the brown leather was stained in places, the pages inside the book had yellowed and there was a slightly musky odor to it. Ben and Tommy studied the book. Tommy began to reach for it but retracted his hand.

"You sure this thing...it isn't gonna make my flesh fry or anything?" Tommy asked...understandably worried.

"I carried that thing down last night and nothing happened." Iain replied.

"Oh...okay." Tommy replied.

"I do suggest..." Iain interrupted. "That you wear these." He held out a pair of rubber gloves to Tommy who took them, slid them on and then gently lifted the cover of the book. Inside were lines upon lines of written scrawl in a language Tommy didn't even have a hope of comprehending.

"You talked to 'Spooky' about seeing if he can work this out?" Tommy asked.

"Not yet...I was hoping to catch him before we knocked off though." Iain replied, he then seemed to vanish into thought for a few minutes. "I don't like it."

"Don't like what?" Ben asked.

"This." He gestured at the book. "Anything which has a PKE level large enough to fry a 'meter is bad news...you remember that casefile...it was the eighties...the New York office was on a call to a woman who might've known something about some weird goings on in the New York area...and there was a piece of paper that caused Professor Spengler's PKE Meter to explode."

"I think I know the one you mean." Ben replied.

"Do you have any idea what language it's written in? From the cover I can tell it's not written in English." Tommy asked.

"I've cross referenced it with the online translators...it had Google stumped...I've even gone through all of my books and the only thing it seemed to match was...well...Sumerian...and I'd be lucky if I knew what 'Sumerian' was in Sumerian." Iain replied honestly. "But I can't tell if it's actually Sumerian...while some of the characters are the same if it is the same language then it's written in something older then my books cover."

"I can see why you're hesitant, Iain." Tommy replied, turning to face Iain. "What do you want to do?" He asked.

"Well...I don't want to do anything until I get Vincent's opinion on this." Iain replied honestly.

"Opinion on what, exactly?" A voice asked, making all three Ghostbusters visibly jump.

"Jesus...Vincent." Tommy replied, catching his breath.

"Yes, I have that effect on people," Vincent grinned as he strode over to join his fellow Ghostbusters. "What do we have here?"

"A book." Ben replied bluntly.

"Which makes PKE Meters burn." Tommy added. Vincent raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Really?" He replied, he extracted a pair of rubber gloves from a box full of them, slipped them on and began to study the book underneath Iain's illuminated magnifying glass. "Yes...indeed..." Vincent commented. "Most definitely..." He continued. "Uh-huh." He replied, pointing to a passage in the strange script. "Fascinating!" Vincent exclaimed, much to the chagrin of his fellow Ghostbusters. Tommy coughed loudly to get Vincent's attention.

"Oh! Beg my pardon." He turned to face them, taking a moment to wipe his glasses. He then folded his arms across his chest as he turned his full attention to them. "It's amazing! It's a grimoire!" he said excitedly.

"A grim-what?" Tommy asked with a quizzical look.

"No...Grim_oire_...this is only an educated guess, as I'm not as well versed in this particular dead language as some...but from the dialect...the accent...the spelling and the style of script...I'd hazard a guess and say it's Sumerian...however I'd want a second opinion before I'd put it in writing." Vincent explained, as he paced the room.

"I'm making a very wild guess there's only one expert in Sumerian that we readily know." Iain asked.

"Do you need to even guess the name?" Vincent replied with a wry smile.

"I suppose not." Iain replied thoughtfully.

"I recommend you send a message to Head Office as soon as possible...we need to communicate this discovery in the likely event this becomes something bigger then it already suggests." Vincent added.

"Yeah...I'll get Junior onto it..." Ben replied, he then left the room.

"This discovery does concern me though..." Vincent replied as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Iain was saying the exact same thing." Tommy replied. "How did a book written in Sumerian end up in our loft?" Tommy asked.

"That is as worrying a question as to where it came from." Vincent agreed.

**(8:54pm)**

"Dad...there may be a problem." Ben King Jnr spoke as he entered the lab.

"What kind of problem?" Ben asked.

"You know how NTL is our internet service provider?" Ben King Junior asked.

"Yeah." Ben King Sr. replied.

"Well I just tried to connect to the internet and then go onto the company's Hotmail account...and it wasn't working. I tried a few more times, checked the connections...everything was sound so I rang up NTL's hotline..."

"And?" Tommy asked.

"Seems some...'skilled' workmen managed to slice through a cable while doing some work at Stansted Airport...the entire NTL service for the south east has been disrupted."

"What?" Iain asked incredulously.

"Yeah..." Ben replied. "They said they were hoping to get the regular service back up by tomorrow evening...but it means we can't contact head office." Ben King Jnr informed them.

"That rules out the new software the tech staff at GBIweb have been working on...for the moment." Vincent replied thoughtfully.

"Marvelous." Tommy muttered. "So we can't communicate this to New York until tomorrow evening...and that's only a possible estimate?" He asked in disbelief.

"I guess so." Ben replied grumpily.

"It's times like this where I swear we should've gone with BT." Tommy replied irritably. "But what if that thing starts causing other things to burst into flames?" He asked, pointing at the book.

"It's a chance we're gonna need to take." Iain replied honestly.

"I can set up some magical wards to prevent anything else going into the waste disposal from spontaneous combustion...however...all we can do for the moment apart from that is try to perform some translation work...and try to find out this book's origins...we'll need to find who brought it here and if it was here when this building was operating as a institution." Vincent concluded.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

* * *

Semi-Standard Disclaimer:  
Ghostbusters is owned by Columbia/Sony; Created by Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis. Developed for television by J. Micheal Straczynski  
Ghostbusters West Coast created by Vincent Belmont and Andy Harness; Characters are owned by their respective creators  
Ghostbusters UK, Ghostbusters Arcane Division, ECTO Canada, Ghostbusters Nightsquad owned by their respective creators

* * *

#32136-60504y  
031


	2. May 29, 2004

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer  
GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly  
Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

**

* * *

**

**May 29th, 2004**  
**10 days until the end of the world.**  
**GBUK HQ (11:00pm)**

* * *

Vincent dropped his pen and rubbed at his eyes, he'd been working since nine 'o' clock in the morning trying to decipher as much of the book as he could...which irritably wasn't a large portion of the total text...he needed an expert to collaborate with...he needed Egon Spengler. He stood up and exited the lab, careful to replace his glasses as he went. He moved towards the reception area and greeted the desk jockey.

"Master King...I trust the internet connection has been re-established?" He asked.

"Err...I'm not sure...I guess it wouldn't hurt to give it a try though...it is getting on..." He studied his watch and performed a slightly comical 'taken back' action at the time. "...past ten 'o' clock."

"Understood." Vincent replied, he then turned and walked towards his lab/office. He opened the door, closed it behind him and made his way to the office part of the lab. He sat down and booted up the computer, a few minutes later the NTL: Freedom connection window appeared on the screen. Vincent paused for a moment and then clicked on the _connect_ button.

A moment later he was rewarded with the sounds of the computer's modem dialing up to the service provider's servers and successfully logging onto the internet. Vincent moved the mouse cursor over to the AIM logo displayed on the desktop and within moments he was logged onto one of the biggest instant messaging systems on the planet. Under the Active Users list was one particular name that he needed to contact to get a message to the New York office. The name went under: GBIExecutive.

_**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Greetings, Richard.  
__**GBI Executive:**__ Vincent...good to hear from you! It's been too long.  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Unfortunately I must dismiss with the pleasantries...we have a rather serious situation on our hands.  
__**GBIExecutive:**__ Understood, Vincent...what do you need?  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ I need to get into contact with Professor Spengler...preferably over the new system...discretion is required...if possible.  
__**GBIExecutive:**__ The system should work...the web monkeys have been working on it non-stop...I'm afraid things have been a bit of a mess since Dr. Roberts relinquished his role within the technical side of GBI...but it wouldn't be here without what he started...I'll give Professor Spengler a phone call, I'll tell him it's a priority message from you.  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Much thanks, Richard._

**

* * *

**

**3:15pm, America, EST)**

* * *

The baby wriggled with growing displeasure as a tiny finger poked her in the belly again.

"Hm...fascinating..." the boy who owned the finger said.

The baby was a tiny, brown-skinned girl of about four months of age, dressed in a pink sleeper with Dora the Explorer on it.

The boy was only days shy of five, but tall for that age, and studied the baby with wide green eyes. He had unruly red hair featuring a squiggly tail in the back ("I can just about swear your hair must just grow that way. It explains a lot about your father's look" his mother had said more than once) and was dressed in shorts and a Power Rangers t-shirt.

"Johnathan!" the other girl in the room admonished him. "If you keep doing that she will start crying and Kylie will be mad at us!"

She was about the same age as the boy (truth to be told, almost exactly the same age-the difference measureable in a matter of minutes) and regarded the scene with eyes of the deepest blue. Her hair was finer than his, and spun of a rich blonde color. The purple shirt and red jumper she was wearing gave them an oddly matching appearance, which seemed even more appropriate when one looked closely at them: those different colored eyes nevertheless both held an intensity that was unmistakably shared by the other, and by the eyes of the man that fathered them...

"It's just an experiment, Edie..." Johnathan replied, making a dismissive noise. "I wanna see how she responds to stimulus, that's all..." and he poked the baby again.

A shrill, piercing cry was the result.

Both almost-five-year-olds looked up, panicked, as the door to the room was thrown open, allowing the entrance of a twenty-five year-old woman with a slight build and long, dark hair. She was wearing, as she almost always did, makeup that gave her a pale appearance ("Goth" is how they'd heard their Uncle Peter describe it). Right behind her was a three year old girl with the same brown skin as the baby girl, dressed in a frilly pink dress.

Even worse for the two children, right behind _them_ was a woman with the boy's red hair and the girl's nose and jawline.

"Johnathan Chirstopher and Eden Marie Spengler, can I even leave you alone for three minutes?" Janine Melnitz Spengler chastised them, as Kylie Griffin picked up her younger daughter.

"Momma's here, Rose...no need to cry..."

"I was just touching her..." John tried to explain. "it wasn't hard or nothing...I ust wanted to see how many before she, y'know...did anything..."

"He poked her twelve times." Eden chimed in, not so much ratting her brother out (in her mind) as relaying the results of the experiment.

"You two..." Janine shook her head, looking over at Kylie and Rose.

"Rosey okay?" Conchita Rivera asked in a quiet but pleasant voice.

"She's okay, Chita...aren't you?" Kylie replied, holding Rose up. "C'mon...smile for Momma, huh?"

Janine surveyed the scene for a moment, then turned to the Twins. "Okay, everything's fine. Listen, it's almost time for your Uncle Peter to be on TV-why don't you go up there with Jessica and watch?"

"Uncle Peter's gonna be on TV again? He's been doing that a lot lately..." John noted.

"Come with us, Conchita!" Eden said, taking the younger girl's hand.

"Race you! Last one there is a doo-doo head accountant lawyer!" John shouted, taking off in a run.

"Johnathan! You walk now!" Janine shouted after him.

After a few minutes, Rose Rivera stopped crying and began to doze back off.

"They're just curious about babies, I guess..." Janine exhaled. "I guess that's totally natural."

"Even if they weren't genetically predisposed to be curious about, well, everything." Kylie nodded with a smirk.

Janine shook her head affectionately. "They come by that honestly after all...and Rose is the first real baby they've been aware of. They were only two when Conchita was born...they were too busy being babies themselves at that point."

"Well, being _Spengler_ babies, which meant nailing down Algebra..." Kylie quipped, provoking laughter from both women.

Jessica was fending off the green, potato-shaped spirit that was inordinately interested in her popcorn.

She'd heard stories for years about the "slimy disgusting eating machine" from her father, and when she was about six she finally got to meet it. For Slimer, perhaps not surprisingly considering the source of Jessica's DNA, it was something akin to love at first sight.

For her part, she found Slimer extremely disgusting...but he tried so hard to make her like him she eventually relented and realized she actually liked the creature. Though she would be caught dead before admitting it. Yes, she was indeed Peter Venkman's daughter.

John bound up, jumped over the couch, and plopped right into the seat next to her, helping himself to a large handful of popcorn without even asking.

"You could at least ask, Johnny..." the eleven year-old said with mock disgust. Like them, she had inherited some tall genes (from her mother, in this case) and a mop of curly dark brown hair. She favored a rather informal, tomboyish style of dress, which contrasted with the subdued Eden and the downright frilly and girlish Conchita.

"Popcorn, Spengs?" Jessica asked Eden, tearing the bowl away from her brother and offering it to her.

"I believe I shall." Eden answered, making a big show of taking some and eating it slowly to tease John. "You want some, Conchita?"

"Si..." she responded simply, taking a few bites which she ate daintily.

A few minutes later Janine, Kylie, and Janine's husband-Professor Egon Spengler-appeared. "I begin to doubt that Roland, Eduardo, and Garrett will make it..." Egon said with some amusement. Now forty-six years of age, his hair was beginning to turn white from the ears down, but was still assembled in a style that his son's resembled, swirling at the top with a squiggly tail at the back. Still, the second team could swear Egon Spengler actually looked _younger_ than he did when they first met him in 1997. "You watching it there at Fort Arnold?" he asked his cel phone.

_"Oh yeah..."_ the tiny tenor of Ray Stantz came back. _"Winston's got it up on the big screen..."_

"It's starting! Hush!" Jessica said loudly.

The flashy logos of the AllmusicTV network came across the screen, and a forty-something woman dressed in clothing that was just a tad conspicuously trendy appeared.

_"Thanks for joining us for this Allmusic TV news special! Twenty years ago this week the movie Ghostbusters was released, which was about the first case of the famous group of Professional Paranormal Investigators and Eliminators (try saying that five times fast). And you may remember how it was me who landed one of the first interviews with the famous leader of the Ghostbusters, Dr. Peter Venkman!_

Footage came up of the same woman, albeit twenty years younger and wearing stylish Eighties clothes. Next to her was a man with dark hair, green eyes, and a brown and green suit. The screen read "Dr. Peter Venkman. February 11, 1984."

_"Hey, gang, this is Corkie for Allmusic TV! And I'm talking to the original Ghostbuster, Dr. Peter Venkman!"_

"I can't believe your Dad was ever that young..." John said.

"I can't believe it either." Jessica agreed.

"I can't believe how far he's gone to still look as young as he does." Janine rolled her eyes, whispering to Egon, provoking a brief chuckle out of her husband.

_"Hello, youth of America!"_ Venkman said, flashing his cheshire grin.

_"Peter, it's been six months since you guys beat up on Gomer..."_

"Gozer"

"Right. So. What's your life like now?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Just hanging out and saving the world. You know just last week we stopped some creep before he could put everyone in the world nighty-night..."

"Wow"

"It's a tough job, but somebody has to be paid incredibly well to do it. Right now we're working on opening offices in Los Angeles, London, Paris, and Tokyo now. Within a year, Ghostbusters will be worldwide."

"Sweet. My friend was at this club in Ibiza and she swears she saw the ghost of Jimi Hendricks high-fiving Elvis."

"Well, they had a lot in common."

"I know! Now...I have to ask you the question on everyone's mind."

"If it's about those Meryl Streep rumors, I really can't comment."

"Hee hee...no, no, it's not that. What's Louis Tully really like?"

There was a solid round of laughter from the room. "He's a doo doo head!" the Spengler Twins and Jessica chanted in unison. Janine just buried her face in her hands, an embarrassing memory or two resurfacing.

The scene shifted back to the older-looking version of Corkie. _"Well, twenty years later, here I am at the Allmusic TV studios in Los Angeles, here with our very special guest-Dr. Peter Venkman, chairman of Ghostbusters International! I guess the offices in LA and London thing took, huh?" _

Venkman was wearing an incredibly similar suit to the older interview, and save the extra lines on his face looked rather much the same (though everyone in the room suspected that the current hair color was artificially enhanced).

"At least he doesn't have to wear a rug like Grandpa Charlie..." Jessica said, downing a bit of popcorn. "You should've seen him at the Enron hearings a while back..."

_"Well, Corkie, it sure did. I mean, it took a while-Ghostbusters International didn't take off until after we got back together seven years ago, and somehow the Paris and Tokyo offices never made it. But we got some great Ghostbusting teams in London, here in LA, and all over the United States and Canada."_

"And I understand you're married with a couple kids now?"

"Yeah. My son Oscar and daughter Jessica-and I know they're watching right now. I promise you, I never dated Meryl Streep."

Jessica rolled her eyes. She knew her brother (technically half-brother) Oscar Wallance was watching at a friend's house, and was probably having the same reaction.

_"Actually, all the Ghostbusters are married now-but let me tell you, that took some doing in one case."_ Corkie guessed, giggling. _"I tell you, my sister and half the girls in her science club had the biiiiggest crush on him" _

"Doctor Spengler?"

"Ew, ick..." Eden said, sticking her tongue out.

"Hey, I can't fault the girls for taste..." Janine chimed in loudly. Egon cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling.

_"And how is Louis Tully these days, anyway?"_ Corkie asked with a mischievous grin.

Venkman seemed to grapple with the question for a moment. _"Well, after his fifteen minutes ran out he went to law school. Back in '88, when we got back together the first time, we hired him as our accountant and lawyer-he runs GBI's finances how. He's had some setbacks, but he's doing okay."_ Corkie asked.

"I hear he got married a while back and it didn't work out."

"Oh Adonai..." Janine exhaled.

Venkman's brow narrowed. _"All I'm gonna say about that is that it was something that never should've happened in the first place, and the situation is rectified. Let's leave it at that."_

Corkie looked confused for a minute, and decided to wisely pursue a different line of questioning. _"So I hear your son is in a rock band?" _

Just about then, Egon's cel phone rang.

"Egon?" Janine whispered.

Egon looked at the display. "It's from GBI...a message to contact Vincent. Urgent."

"Vincent" meant Dr. Vincent Belmont, former employee of Ghostbusters New York, former leader of the Ghostbusters Manhattan franchise, and current temporary leader of one team of the Ghostbusters UK.

None of the others noticed as he left the room.

* * *

As Vincent waited for Richard to reply back he logged himself onto GBI's newly-developed...but still beta stage priority encrypted instant messenger system...and idea which Professor Spengler had been working on alongside Richard Roy and the 'web monkeys' of the GBI website...which was also linked to the online editions of Tobin's Spirit Guide and the system established the previous year known solely as: T.O.B.I.N. Within five minutes Vincent's AIM window chimed and he looked at what Richard had to say:

_**GBIExecutive:**__ Message relayed and response given. He will be online within a few minutes._

* * *

Egon went to his laboratory, jiggling the mouse to call up his computer's display. "Priority..." he muttered, and activated the unique, security-encrypted instant messaging program he and some of the GBI techs had developed (though Venkman liked to call it "AIMless")

Unsurprisingly, he saw that Vincent was online.

_You are signed on as __**ProfESpengler.**__ GBI encryption is ON  
Send to: __**DrVincentBelmont**_

* * *

Vincent typed up a quick reply of thanks and logged off of AIM...he didn't want any distractions while he communicated the situation.

_**DrVincentBelmont**__ has been sent a private instant message from:  
__**ProfESpengler.**_  
-

Accept Message?

Vincent clicked on Yes and was instantly taken to a window which resembled the AIM dialogue box. The only differences being that the colours were muted greys and reds...and the long-familiar logo of GBI was displayed proudly in the top right corner.

_**ProfESpengler:**__ Vincent?  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Professor! Glad I could reach you so quickly.  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ Indeed. What is going on?  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Right to the point...  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Two days ago we found something in the Asylum  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ An old book  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ Hm...  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Suspicious enough, but it gets better  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ It's blown out Iain's PKE Meter about three times  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ And I've finally figured out what language it's written in  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ I take it it's not Latin, then?  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ No.  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ It's Sumerian  
_

* * *

"Sumerian?" Egon said out loud.

_**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Professor?  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ So no idea as to the content?  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Egon, I've translated the first two pages...which took me the better part of 8 hours,  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ I might have it translated in about a year...and I don't feel it can wait that long.  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ I'm too slow with Sumerian. I never really got a feel for it like you.  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Egon...I need Dr. Spengler.  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ You are one of the world experts in the Sumerian language  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ No need for excessive pleasantries, Vincent  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ Of course I will take a look at it.  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Thank you, Sir.  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Though it will be a trick...  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ How so?  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ I wonder if the scanner will work if it's that hot with PKE...  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ Nonsense.  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ It's potentially incredibly hazardous  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ I will come to England to inspect it personally _

* * *

Vincent quickly got up and moved to where he believed he'd seen Iain last, the break room. To his eternal gratitude the member of the RAF was in the break room, resting against the wall of the room.

"I've managed to contact Professor Spengler and relay the situation...he will be coming here." He explained. He then quickly left the room with Iain in hot pursuit.

"Wait...what?" Iain asked. He followed Vincent back into Vincent's lab and watched as the member of Ghostbusters: Manhattan resumed his conversation with the Ghostbuster across the Atlantic Ocean.

* * *

Egon noted that it took Vincent a full thirty seconds to respond. _Perhaps he's informing the others..._

_**DrVincentBelmont:**__ I won't lie to you, sir. That is news of tremendous relief to us.  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ I thought it might be  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ It will take me some time to get things arranged here  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ But I should be leaving in the ECTO-4 by tomorrow  
__**DrVincentBelmont:**__ Thank you, sir.  
__**ProfESpengler:**__ Until I see you in person...  
__**ProfESpengler**__ is now logged off _

* * *

Moments later Vincent signed off of the system and then disconnected from the internet.

"Okay...could you now give me the long explanation of what just happened?" Iain asked.

"I have relayed the discovery of the book and the following events to Professor Spengler...as he is the most renowned expert on Sumerian that we have ready contact with...and he has informed me that he will be journeying here to take a look at the book." Vincent explained.

"Okay..." Iain replied, taking in what Vincent had said. "I'll inform Tommy and the others." He replied and then left the lab.

* * *

Egon sighed and laid back in his chair. _Sumerian almost always means trouble... he thought to himself. Anshar and Khishor...the Doomsday doorway...and of course Gozer..._

Janine had quietly entered the room. "I know that look...how bad is it?"

"In all honesty, I don't know yet. It may be nothing...but I have this feeling..."

She snuggled up to him. "It's still weird to hear you say that. But in a good way..."

"A man who is not constantly learning is stagnant. And learning that there's more to life than logic was something you taught me."

She giggled and kissed him. "Now all I gotta do now is figure out how I'm gonna corral the kids all by myself for a few days..."

He laughed. "That, my Dear, is something I'm still learning myself..."

* * *

F32136-60504y  
031  
-


	3. May 30, 2004

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

**

* * *

May 30th, 2004**

**9 days until the end of the world.**

**England (1:26am)**

* * *

GBUK HQ Kitchen...a place to eat...drink...and brief. During most hours the room served as the dining/lunching/breakfast area where one team or another would congregate depending on the time of day. However it's lesser known use was as a conference room whenever the need for one was called, at present every member of Ghostbusters UK, acting Staff Member and Civilian Worker, had been brought into the kitchen of the building and were ready to be briefed on the most recent events.

"Thanks for coming guys...especially on such short notice." Tommy spoke at the head of the meal table. Sat to his left was Iain Bennett and to his right was Vincent Belmont who was studying a set of notes between listening to Dayshift's member and franchise Co-CEO. "We've got some developments on the situation with that book Iain found and we wanted to make sure everyone was up to date. Vincent...if you could start the ball rolling." Tommy asked.

"Okay." Vincent began. "As you are well aware, Iain discovered a book located within part of the abandoned section of the East Wing a few days ago, a book of frightening potential if the later details continue to mention certain names that the earlier passages make reference to. As you may have heard it is written in Sumerian...and unfortunately while I know certain languages which aren't taught in a university outside of Arkham, I'm not an expert on Sumerian. Such is the case that I have taken the liberty of inviting Professor Egon Spengler to view the book...which means he will be making arrangements to travel here from New York tomorrow." Vincent explained.

"It means we're going to have to be on our best behaviour guys...that means you as well Bestler."

"What the hell?" Adam asked in surprise.

"It also means we're putting all of our caseloads on hold until further notice guys..." Iain added.

"Agreed...that is why it's your task," Vincent directed his view at Ben King Jnr. "Master King, to contact our clients to inform them of the extended delay. Until otherwise stated the cases will be delayed for about a period of 30 days or so...once the situation is has been concluded then the cases can be reassessed due to their priority."

"If the situation is winnable." Roger Johnson commented sarcastically.

"Okay...but I don't like the idea of having irate customers ready to cut my head off." Ben King Jr. replied. "They tend to send hate mail y'know?"

"With that said...we will unfortunately be cancelling all leave until further notice...we need as many staff members in operation as possible depending on how things work out." Tommy paused as he went through a set of papers detailing the staff members. "It may also be worth putting the Reserve Ghostbusters on duty as well."

"Yeah." Iain agreed.

"Are you sure?" Rosey Collins asked. "I mean...sure...we know how to use the equipment...but on a fairly basic level. Seriously - come on - can you imagine me loose on the streets with an electromagnetic nuclear proton defribulator, or whatever you want to call it? 'Oops - there goes another office block!'" She took a moment to remove her glasses and give her forehead a brief massage, once this was finished she replace the glasses on her nose and over her green eyes.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Rosey," Iain said sternly.

"Right," Rosey mock-saluted him. "Of course not. Sorry, boss."

"While normally I'd be reluctant..." Tommy replied. "We'll need as many people as possible." He took a moment to study some notes he'd been making. "For now we're to go about our regular duties and stuff...Vincent...Iain...I want you two to continue your work on the book...even if there aren't any Sumerian experts in this building the more that you guys translate the better our options are."

"Understood." Vincent replied.

"Yeah." Iain added.

"I will try research this guy as best I can...see if we can find out where this quarry was he worked at. The rest of you, for the moment...I want you to perform tests on the equipment...make sure it's in tip top condition...once that's done that I suppose get as much relaxation in the break room as you can, we don't know when we might get the opportunity again. Is there anything that someone wants to bring into discussion?" There was no answer. "Okay...let's get to work." The team broke up and made their way to their intended places where they'd be doing their work until Professor Spengler arrived.

"I don't know...all this concern over a book? I mean it could be nothing." Adam asked.

"Yeah...and that little leak in the side of the Titanic meant nothing." Roger retorted. "C'mon Adam...this thing could be big."

"What can I say?" Adam asked as they walked down the corridor to the Break Room. "I crack jokes when I'm in nervous terror."

**

* * *

**

(2:45am)

"LIVE FIRE!" Iain shouted, moments later a proton beam shot across the concrete-clad room and incinerated a cardboard cut-out of a ghost, a cheesy but none-the-less effective target until they could use a ghost which could sit still...and not many franchises had one of those.

"I still say using a real ghost would work...or even just using the B.O.O.M. Stick to cover up the cardboard cut-out." Ben King Sr. replied as he switched off his Proton Gun and slid his earmuffs around his ears...the acoustics in the room meant that firing a Proton Gun could cause a person to go partially deaf for about half a day.

"Ben...it's cheap and effective." Iain replied as he slid his own earmuffs down around his neck. "Besides the B.O.O.M. Stick's still in the testing stage...we don't know how well it'll operate in the field." Iain referred to the B.O.O.M Stick or Battery Operated Optical Manipulator...a maglite-sized portable holo-projector which had been pieced together from the team's Spirit Photographer a few months back.

"Hmph." Ben grunted. "This gun's good...beam's aligned and the feedback's okay." He reported, he then shrugged off the Proton Pack and placed it on a workbench where he then plugged in an industrial cable to a transformer which allowed the Ghostbusters to charge up the power cells without serious feedback overload...a problem discovered by the New York Ghostbusters during the pack's first attempted test. "That's number twelve checked." Ben replied.

"Right." Iain replied and made a note on a clipboard which displayed a check list of all of the equipment. "Are all the traps charged?" He asked.

"One sec." Ben replied as he moved over to check the charging area, there were two charging areas in total. One was based in the Containment Unit area, the other was based in the building's Armoury/Testing Range which was situated in the basement. "Most of 'em are charged...but thirteen's acting up again." As if to illustrate the point he slapped a textbook against the side of a trap casing and a LED indicating the charge flickered on.

"Probably dump that one in the 'shop for now." Iain replied as he ticked some of the boxes on the sheet. They both looked up as the building's resident goth stepped into through the door into the room, which was separated from the main target range by a bulletproof glass corridor which doubled as a viewing gallery.

"Hey." He greeted.

"Yo." Iain greeted in reply as Ben turned back to the task of removing the faulty trap casing.

"How's the equipment check going?" Eric asked.

"Good." Iain replied, he then took a quick look at the sheet. "All of the packs are calibrated and working fine...though that trap's still giving us grief." Iain explained.

"I'll get onto that...probably a problem with the built-in battery pack." Eric supposed.

"Yeah...how are things your end?" Iain asked in return.

"Both Ectos are gassed up and ready...Adam, Eric and myself went over both of thm plus the engines...everything's in good condition."

"Good to hear." Iain replied. He made a few more quick notes on the sheet of paper and then glanced at his watch. "We'd better be getting upstairs...I need to get back to my translation work."

"Right." Eric replied.

**

* * *

**

(8:50am)

During a short break from his preparation activities at around ten minutes to nine, Iain Bennett was surfing the web on the computer in his office. He was just about to sign off before he remembered to check his email...well...the company's email. He started up MSN and took a look in the Inbox. While it was usually the desk jockey's job...sometimes he found it passed the time to simply keep up to date.

"Let's see..." Iain quietly spoke as he looked at the email. There were three emails about product design...including an announcement covering the Proton Pistols...something to do with the annual CAT scans coming up in a few months...a message in relation to GBI's big anniversary which wasn't too long into the future...and a message about an AWOL Ghostbuster? Iain was intrigued, he had heard about the former GBI Franchise, the Manapalan Ghostbusters going rogue but he hadn't heard much about any single member...excluding a former comrade of NOMAD. He clicked on the email and studied the message.

_"From: _

_To: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ._

_Subject: AWOL GBI Staff Member_

_All,_

_GBI Franchise West Coast Division has reported one of their staff members going AWOL around May 23rd-25th, the missing staff member in question goes by the name of Jeremy Hicks. GBI Franchise Staff Members are to remain on the look out during the operation of standard practice for Jeremy Hicks if they spot him or activities in relation to his disappearance. His appearance is roughly 5' 6'', slight build, brown swept-back hair, glasses and blue eyes. A man matching Hicks' recently spotted in the Downtown Toronto area where he had an altercation with E.C.T.O. Canada members Drs Walker and Davis. If Hicks is spotted and confirmed then he is to be apprehended for questioning, however it is believed that he is armed and extremely dangerous so staff members are being advised to use extreme caution during the aprehension process. If Jeremy Hicks is apprehended please restrain him and contact the Head Office in New York._

_-Spengs._

_(AKA Richard Roy)"_

"Marvelous...we have to keep a watch out for some nutjob Ghostbuster while translating the book." Iain muttered as he continued to finish the reading the rest of the email.

**

* * *

**

(7:54am EST, America)

_"You're going to England? Egon, what the Hell for? You develop a taste for crumpets and perpetual drizzle?" _the voice of Peter Venkman came from the speaker phone.

"Peter, that is a horrendous stereotype." Egon responded, zipping up his familiar blue flight suit.

_"Tell that to Robert-he's from Morecambe...he'll back me up on this."_

The other two legendary original members of the Ghostbusters were in the room, as was Janine. Ray Stantz was dressed in a brown jacket with the Ghostbusters logo on its chest. Winston was wearing a grey plaid shirt that reminded Ray of what he was wearing the very first time they'd met, almost twenty-one years before.

Being only 43, Ray's face was still ruddy and youthful-if not for the beard he'd grown over the last couple years, he was almost indistinguishable from the days he fought Gozer, Samhaine, and the Boogeyman on a weekly basis.

Winston, while the oldest Ghostbuster (having just had his 51st birthday earlier in the month), also still looked quite vital. He'd regrown the mustache he'd shaved off not long after the team founded, and his dark hair sported a couple of distinguishing white streaks.

"I'm not sure you should be going alone...what if it is dangerous?" Ray asked.

"You just want to get a look at it, don't you?" Winston quipped, poking Ray on the arm.

"Well...um...yeah..." Ray replied sheepishly. "I'm an occultist, you know..."

"True. But not fluent in Sumerian." Egon replied. "Ray, if it's something dangerous, remember there are two teams of Ghostbusters in England more than capable of dealing with it."

"I know..." Ray responded. "And I don't have a ready babysitter for Eric with his Mom visiting Nova Scotia..." He chuckled at the thought. "Her and her little projects..."

"I thought that was why you liked her, Man...' Winston teased.

_"I thought it was because of her nice set of..." _

Janine cleared her throat loudly in warning.

"Egon's right, Ray." Winston said. "Tommy Simpson's got a good crew, and we know Vince is a force to be reckoned with. I think anything that comes after Egon is gonna think twice if it realizes it has to get through Vincent Belmont to do it..."

"True...and I guess it's not the best omen for all of us to go." Ray said resignedly. "Last time we were there the Prime Minister got kidnapped, and the time before that the place was undergoing a potential disaster of biblical proportion..."

_"More like astrological proportion..."_ Venkman chimed in. _"Hey, my publicity tour will be done in about a week...if you really need me I suppose I could come home, just..." _

"You still haven't figured out what happened to that guy of yours yet?" Winston asked.

_"Nope"_ Venkman replied. _"I know after what happened to John Lipsyte, and Ron leaving he had every right to be upset. But trust me-it just doesn't seem like Jeremy to just up and vanish like that." _

"I think it's settled, then." Winston summarized. "Egon goes to England, we continue as normal."

_"Normal being a fairly relative term around here..." _

Janine, Ray, and Winston followed Egon to the ECTO-4, the custom gyrowing aircraft Egon had built back in 1989. It was equipped with a version of what was probably Egon's masterpiece invention, the transdimensional warp drive, though being expensive to operate, had only been used a handful of times. It wouldn't be needed for this trip.

"You can't fool me, Professor." Janine teased. "Forget all about translating an old book, you're doing this to take a nice, long trip in your hot rod..."

"You know me too well..." Egon retorted, smirking.

"You take care, Homeboy..." Winston said, shaking his hand.

"I shall." Egon replied warmly.

"If you can get hold of any Doctor Who stuff..." Ray joked, hugging his old friend.

"Your favorite is Tom Baker, but you like Sylvester McCoy too..." Egon replied.

Ray and Winston wisely left to give husband and wife one moment more alone together. After a few tender words and a long kiss, the tall man boarded the aircraft. With a roar, it came to life, and carried him into the skies, bearing east...

**

* * *

**

(8:07am)

Mary Sue Gladstone looked up at the sound...seeing a bright object flying out to sea. She moped along the street of TriBeCa...berating herself for not having the courage to go up there...

There. The former firehouse at 110 North Moore Street, the one with the sign bearing the legendary logo, the cartoony white ghost surrounded by a red circle, with a slash across the creature...

_Oh Egon..._ she thought wistfully.

She'd been so close a year ago...her heart soared when the ad appeared in the LA Times...

_**Ghostbusters International to Open West Coast Division **_

_"235?" The slutty strawberry blonde woman called. _Her skirt is just way too short_ Mary Sue had thought. _She has to be easy...I mean, Geez, "Chelsea Aberdeen"? That sounds like a porn star name or something...

_Then she realized..."Me! That's me!" she shouted, jumping up and down, running to the front of the room _

_"This way..." the bitch said, leading her to a table where Dr. Peter Venkman (Egon's best friend in the whole world!) and some other guy were sitting, both wearing sport coats and ties. The other guy had a paper nametag reading "GBI FRACHISE CEO", while Venkman's was plastic, engraved, and had his name and the title "GBI CEO" _

_Venkman stood up and introduced himself and the other guy-Dr. Joey Williams, the new franchise's CEO-to her. "Our business operations manager, Miss Aberdeen, tells me you scored quite well on the test. Miss..." he looked down at the paper in front of him. _

_"Mary Sue Gladstone!" she answered brightly, before Venkman could read it. _

_"Miss Gladstone" Joey nodded, clearly impressed... _

_Mary Sue looked at both of them, then around some...she saw a third man, with a "GBI STAFF" tag, playing Beenimon on his Game Boy Advance but that didn't satisfy her. "Egon isn't here?" she just had to ask. _

_One of Joey's eyebrows shot up. "Egon?" _

_"The whole reason I want to be a Ghostbuster is so I can meet Egon! He is like the perfect man, and I want to give him all the love he needs!' _

_Venkman looked sad as he reminded her. "You...do realize that Professor Spengler has been married for the last five years?" _

Oh yeah...remind me of that... _she seethed inside_. I don't see how anyone can think they're compatible...that guy who wrote the movies said so! He thought they were "failed" and "mawkish"-why didn't she just stay with that...oh, that one guy, the accountant or something?

_She knew Peter would understand, after all..."Oh, c'mon, Peter, you worked with that bitch, you know how she is-she just wants one thing out of him and that's it." She just wants his rod up her hole! "She's just no good for him! It's a mismatch made in Hell! I have a black belt in karate-I can take her! Hi-Yah!" With that, she threw a roundhouse kick at harmless empty air... _

_...Or it would've been if some dorky looking guy hadn't walked up just then. _

_Game Boy Man jumped up and ran over to the now out-cold Dork. _

_Venkman smiled a warm smile of comprehension and approval as he shook Mary Sue's hand. "I think we've seen all we need to, haven't we Dr. Williams?" _

_Joey smiled too. "I think we have Sir!" _

_"We'll send the application to the home office for processing, and contact you shortly! Thanks for your interest!" Venkman continued. _

_"When should I call..." _

_"We'll call you, Miss Gladstone!' Joey said happily. _

_"I'm gonna be a Ghostbuster!" she chanted happily as she walked away. "I'm gonna get to meet Eeeegon!" _

Only they never did call her back.

She tried to call, but the Whore who answered the phone kept putting her on hold. She went to the office once, but some Jerk who was some kind of Egon rip-off gave her the runaround and lied to her about "Dr. Venkman isn't here" and a bunch of crap.

That redheaded bitch must have found out I was going to be a Ghostbuster... Mary Sue thought angrily. And she sabotaged me. She mind controls Egon, and probably f-s Peter too...she made them turn me away. Because she's afraid.

She hid as she heard the roar of an engine...the ECTO-1 returning to the firehouse. She could vaguely see the outlines of those kid imposters sitting in the car...that Goth Hooker and the Latino guy who thought he was hot stuff. And a guy in a wheelchair? What kind of moron thinks a guy in a wheelchair could be a Ghostbuster?

She ran back to her hotel room, and cried. She'd sold all of her earthly possessions except her snazzy pink Ghostbuster flight suit to get here, and she couldn't take the last step.

There was a knock at the door.

She sniffled, and got up. Too early for the maid...

She opened the door. The person standing there was wearing a dark hood over their face, like Darth Sidius, so she couldn't see their face. "May I help you?"

"I am here to help you." a cold female voice replied.

**

* * *

**

(12:25pm)

"Professor Spengler should be leaving New York any time now." Vincent Belmont commented as he studied his watch. "Unfortunately the Ecto-4's engine is nothing like that of a Jumbo Jet 747...and by my estimation it'll take around about sixteen hours to travel from New York to here..which means he'll be arriving around half past eight tomorrow morning...but that's only an estimation."

"Remind me never to take any trips to New York in that thing."

"It is rather unfortunate that the portal downstairs had to be cancelled out until we are sure nothing from the sub-basement passes through the...er...'hell hole'."

"Yeah." Iain agreed. "We'll sort that out when this thing's been resolved."

"Definitely." Tommy agreed. "Sure those binding spells and the PKE Proximity Sensor will give us a bit of a warning...but we'll need to find something more concrete if we want to avoid a repeat of that incident. Anyway...getting back on track...keeping mind Vincent's estimation and probably a period of roughly eight hours of sleep...that'll give us around eight hours to prepare things here for Professor Spengler's arrival."

"Well...my lab's pretty much ready as is...though I could bring over the other angle-poise magnifier." Iain supposed.

"Good...I'll be working on those records...maybe the NHS has something to say about the 'English Patient'."

"Agreed." Vincent commented. The three Ghostbusters were gathered at the meal table in the kitchen as they discussed what there were going to do. "I don't suppose we have a spare landing pad, do we?" Vincent asked.

"Not unless I left it in my other jumpsuit." Tommy replied, patting down the various pockets he had. "Nope. Sorry."

"That means Professor Spengler's gonna need to land on somewhere flat...there should be some of the moorland to the East which can work...failing that there's always the road leading to the garages...anyone know just how big the Ecto-4 is?" Iain asked.

"My memory on the size of the vehicle doesn't contain an exact size...I think we should go with a flat section of the moors just to be safe." Vincent suggested.

"Right." Tommy agreed. "Is the equipment all charged up?"

"Well..." Iain paused to take a bite from a sandwich, they'd been eating lunch while discussing the plans for the next two days. "Ben and I tested and charged all the stuff...all the packs worked fine and are charged...most of the traps worked with no problem...though number thirteen's still acting up." He reported.

"Is someone going to look into that?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah...Eric's going to perform some of his...'magic' on it." Iain replied. Vincent chuckled slightly.

"And the Ectos?" Tommy asked.

"From what Eric told me they're all filled up and ready to go." Iain explained. "They even gave the engines a tune up."

"Excellent." Vincent approved. "What does that leave?" He asked.

"Let's see..." Tommy began. "We've still got translation work...that's your area."

"Yeah." Iain commented as he made some notes.

"Agreed." Vincent added.

"The research into the 'English Patient'...that's my area for now..." Tommy made some notes. "We need someone to go down to the Hell Hole...make sure that nothing...'unusual'...well...unusual for this place anyway...is going on down there...last thing we need is a different dimension trying to stage an invasion on us."

"Funny how you place became the centre of attention since we closed that formerly dormant portal at the Houses of Parliament." Iain replied with a lop-sided grin.

"Yeah." Tommy agreed. "Okay guys...I think that's everything...I'll be in my office if you need me." With that said the three Ghostbusters got up and went their ways, Tommy vanishing in the direction of his office in the West Wing and Iain and Vincent moving to Iain's lab in the East.

**

* * *

**

(12:53pm)

Iain was still hunched over the book in his lab when he heard an odd crackling sound...which turned out to be the radio which was placed on a desk at the far side of the lab. He got up, leaving Vincent to continue his work as he went to investigate why the radio had begun to crackle.

_"Ecto-4 to Ghostbusters UK...Ecto-4 to Ghostbusters UK...come in Ghostbusters UK, over."_ Even though there was interference and the sound of the voice was slightly distorted, Iain could recognize the voice as belonging to Professor Egon Spengler.

"Come in Ecto-4...reading you semi-loud and clear, over." Iain replied into the radio's handset.

_"Mr. Bennett...it is good to hear your voice...at present the Ecto-4 is exiting America airspace, and is crossing the Atlantic Ocean."_ Egon reported.

"That's good to hear sir...have you experienced any problems, over." Iain asked.

_"Apart from some rain and low cloud, none. Will expect to rendezvous with your team at your HQ in eight hours time."_ Egon added.

"Understood sir...is there anything you will need before you arrive? Over." Iain asked.

_"A set of plastic forensics gloves and a room."_ Egon requested.

"We'll arrange the VIP suite, over." Iain reported.

_"Understood, I'll be putting the Ecto-4 onto autopilot now so I shall hopefully be sufficiently rested when I arrive in England. See you in the morning with the rest of your team Mr. Bennett, over and out."_ Egon replied and signed off, a few moments later Iain place the handset back in it's cradle and walked back over to Vincent.

"Problems?" Vincent asked, not looking up from his translation work.

"None...Professor Spengler was simply radioing in that he's at the half way point of the trip and should be here in abour eight hours." Iain explained.

"Excellent." Vincent approved. Iain looked at his watch and stretched his stiff arms...and received a sickening popping sound eminate from his left shoulder which made him wince.

"Well...I don't know about you, Vincent...but I'm gonna try get some sleep...my concentration's wavering and I don't feel I can do much good if I'm getting distracted." Iain commented as he watched Vincent continue translating passages from the book.

"Agreed...I suggest some of us try to get to sleep...I can operate better under a lack of sleep than some people due to some of the training I've received." Vincent responded.

"Show off." Iain replied with a grin. "What should I tell Jill if I see her?" Iain asked.

"Tell her that I'm translating the book...I'm sure she'll understand." Vincent replied.

"I hope you're right...I wouldn't want to get onto her bad side." Iain replied as he left the room.

"Neither would I." Vincent replied to the empty room. As Vincent jotted down the possible translation of a few specific words he paused, as if lost in thought. Then suddenly he collapsed forward as if knocked unconscious.

* * *

#32136-60504y  
031


	4. May 31, 2004

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

* * *

**(Time Unknown...place...unknown)**

* * *

"What? Where am I?" Vincent asked as he looked around. All around him purple storm clouds raged above a battle-scarred landscape...which seemed oddly alien...yet there were some disturbingly familiar elements. Around him he couldn't see another living soul...but somewhere above he could hear the beating of colossal wings...which seemed to emanate from behind a colossal blood red moon. "Show yourself!" Vincent demanded...and suddenly he was consumed by black.

* * *

**May 31st, 2004**

**8 Days until the end of the world.**

**England (6:34am)**

* * *

"Vincent? Vincent!" Suddenly Vincent awoke and suddenly shut his eyes at the harsh light which poured in through one of the lab windows...it was morning? "Vincent...you okay? The way you were sleeping couldn't have been all that comfortable." It was Tommy who at present was dressed in civilian clothes.

"Pardon?" Vincent asked.

"It's morning...and I can't say it's a huge surprise to find you sleeping in the lab...especially with your dedication to translating that thing." Tommy indicated the book.

"Sleeping? But I was only out for a second..." Vincent studied his watch...it read 6:35 AM. The time, combined with the change in lighting proved that it was morning. "I had a vision...I was at an alien landscape...I could hear what sounded like the wings of a colossal bird or moth...but I could've sworn I'd been in that vision for a few minutes...but apparently I was either in it for the best part of six hours or I was truly there for a few minutes but the end of the dream caused me to fall into a type of deep sleep." Vincent supposed.

"Okay...did you see anything important? Anything that might relate to this case?" Tommy asked.

"Nothing specific...if any I'm afraid." Vincent replied.

"Damn...oh well we still have a lot of work to do...Professor Spengler should be arriving in two hours or so and we must get the rest of the unfinished tasks completed." Tommy added.

"Agreed...are the rest of the team downstairs?" Vincent asked.

"A lot of them are migrating down at present." Tommy replied as he walked out of the room.

* * *

**8:45 am.**

* * *

Ben King Senior narrowed his eyes as he searched the skies to the west. "I thought he said he'd be here by now..." Dr. Vincent Belmont stood like stone for fifteen seconds.

"He does have to cross the Atlantic, Benjamin. I think he can't be blamed for being ten minutes late..." Vincent smirked. "Besides, I think I see it now...' Ben squinted again.

"Damn you and your eagle eyes, Belmont...I still don't see a thing..." But shortly, a glint did appear. And a growing sound could be heard in the sky. "Either it's him or we're about to be bombed by the RAF..." Ben spoke into his walkie-talkie, sparing a look back in the direction of the converted asylum that now served as the headquarters of Ghostbusters UK's two teams.

"I wouldn't put it past Chaplain at this point..." the voice of Iain Bennett came back, mostly (mostly) jokingly. "I'll be glad when he gets a look at this-because what little I've picked out is scaring the hell out of me..." Ben nodded.

"The last few months have been...bad, to be certain..." he said, and nothing more. The glint became larger, and became a vehicle-a small, gyrowinged airplane with the standard Ghostbusters logo emblazoned on the side. As it came in for a landing, Ben could see the letters spelling out "ECTO-4" on the side.

After the craft settled to the ground and the roar of it's engines faded to silence, one of the gull-wing hatches at the side opened up, to allow the sole occupant of the craft to emerge.

He was a tall man, standing some six foot three, with a lanky build and a curious configuration of blond hair that had turned white from about the ears down. A pair of tiny eyeglasses were perched on his nose, framing a pair of blue eyes that held a depth and intensity that had unnerved many a person in the past. He wore a jacket over a blue-grey flight suit featuring pink trim and a nametag on the left chest reading "SPENGLER"

"Professor Spengler...welcome to England..." Vincent greeted him, shaking his hand.

Egon Spengler, legendary founding Ghostbuster, looked back at Belmont with just a hint of bemusement.

Vincent glanced down at Egon's uniform and shook his head.

"Ye should' a stuck with the standard GBI khaki. Blue and Pink doesn't suit ye...or is this some fatherhood thing yer goin' for?" Vincent chuckled.

"It's curious how your Scottish accent is more pronounced since you've come back to the Isles..."

Vincent looked a little nonplussed. A slight smirk came to Egon's mouth. "Dr. Belmont rendered speechless? I shall have to tell Peter..." Vincent shook his head and smiled back.

"Your wife has been quite...an influence on you, Sir."

"She tries. And Mister King...a pleasure to see you again, even under the circumstance..." he said, shaking Ben's hand. It had been almost a year since he'd seen Vincent Belmont, but his first-and only-face-to-face meeting with Ben King had been the better part of two years ago. Though the two had communicated regularly ever since via email.

"You too, Sir. Feel free to call me Ben, by the way..."

"Noted, Ben. And you call me by name in the emails, so feel free to do so in person-you're not really that much younger than I am, after all..."

"Well, no...I suppose not...but you're so...well, important..." Egon rolled his eyes.

"Dr. Venkman is the one who gets off on prestige trips, Ben. Besides, you've proven yourself over and again..."

"This way, Professor, if we're all through pattin' ourselves on th' back..." Vincent said, walking toward the asylum. "How is everyone doing back home?"

"Not too badly. Peter's been busy with the twentieth anniversary merchandising, the new comics and novels and such, and of course he's talking about running for mayor again..."

"Twentieth anniversary?" Ben said. "I thought that was last year..."

"Technically yes, Ghostbusters Inc. formed in 1983. But the movie came out in 1984, and GBI was formed at the same time, so there's a lot of confusion about that point. We've finally given up trying to convince people otherwise-which is why we even have been known to say 1984 on the message boards..." Egon wiped his eyeglasses. "And that's nothing compared to convincing some of them that we didn't go out of business immediately after the Gozer incident..."

"To say nothing of the stalkers..." Vincent said simply.

"Um..." Egon said, stopping.

"Touche, Professor..." Vincent said, with a smirk.

"Hm...indeed..." Egon replied.

"Stalkers?" Ben asked, confused. "You don't mean..."

"Mary Sue Gladstone and her ilk. The ones who refuse to face the reality that Professor Spengler is happily married with twins. You should see some of the names they call Mrs. Spengler..."

"I don't think I want to know..." Vincent grimaced

"You don't" Egon said firmly.

"Um...yes..." Ben agreed, coughing. They reached the doorway and went inside. Ben King Jr. was waiting there.

"Professor Spengler..."

"I see your father has been taking good care of you..." Egon said. Junior beamed.

"Well, of course he has. It's been great seeing him again. How are the Twins doing?"

"They've managed to avoid trouble for a whole six days. Though we have a running bet as to how long that will last with me out of the country." Egon said, remembering now that he may lose fifty dollars.

"How bad are these children?" Ben asked. "You make them sound like tiny terrors..."

Egon came as close as he was capable of to actually smiling. "They are the great joy of my life, Ben, as you can sympathize. But you've communicated with my wife-you know that Janine can be...willful..."

"Urm..."

"Now imagine the Professor's mental talents and that feisty nature in th' mix, lad." Vincent said.

"Oh my..." Ben shook his head.

"I have no doubt that they'll exceed me one day..." Egon said. "I haven't pushed them the way I was pushed, but they push themselves pretty hard-growing up with someone just as intelligent and determined as each other, someone to by turns compete and collaborate with, will make them formidable in whatever they choose to do." The cheery conversation was interrupted by the arrival in the room of Dr. Tommy Simpson, the GBUK's leader. Egon paused and turned to beam at Vincent with a more then obvious smile from ear to ear.

"If that is the case, then, Professor Belmont, then the world must hope that you and Miss Valentine do not reproduce..." Vincent turned several shades of red, stopping at what seemed to be a dark maroon.

"Touche, Professor..." Vincent muttered, and continued to walk again. Vincent smiled. "I miss these little repartees...but it seems that I have become lax. I will be on my toes."

"Then from you, Vincent, I expect an actual challenge." Egon retorted.

"Sorry to break this up, Sir...but maybe you'd better come on ahead and see the book..."

Egon's face returned to its accustomed look of scientific intensity. "You are quite correct, Thomas. Lead on."

Tommy, Vincent, Ben, and Egon went to a room to the right of the entrance area. "LAB: BENNETT" read the sign.

Inside was demonologist and RAF Flying Officer Iain Bennett. He stood by a table on which sat, surrounded by various instruments, a somewhat disheveled hardback book.

"Professor Spengler! Glad you could make it..." Iain said. Egon grunted a pleasant noise, but his brain was already at work on the curious object that had brought him accross the Atlantic. He pulled out a box with a handle on it, and flipped a button.

_Error: PK Level Exceeds Sensor Tolerance Parameter._

"Sure beats having it blow up on me..." Egon deadpanned.

"So that's the new Model 3.0..." Iain whistled. "Beautiful piece of kit." Spengler pulled a pair of surgical gloves out of one of his pockets, and put them on after removing the jacket and placing it on a counter.

"You say you found this..inside this asylum?" "Hmmm..." Egon said, as he picked up the book and flipped it around and about. "I'd guess at least seventy years in age...not necessarily cared for well...but not abused either..."

"We think perhaps one of the former inmates had it..." Ben noted.

Egon opened it.

"Sumerian..."

"That's what we suspected, Professor." Vincent said. "I'm not as proficient in the language as you are, and frankly what I could pick out of the title and the first few pages...as well as some of the diagrams were enough concern to call you on..."

"So...what does the title say?" Iain asked.

Egon cleared his throat. "It means...the Chronicles of the Great Destructor, The Formless Traveler..." Egon looked at them, his eyes their most intense. "The Destructor. The Traveller. Vuulgus Zildrohar. Or, as he's know to this day and age...Gozer."

* * *

**10:22PM**

* * *

Ben King Jnr entered the lab, just as Professor Egon Spengler glanced up from the large tome.

"Excellent...just when I'd expected it to arrive." Dr. Spengler commented, he slid the metal stool over to the edge of the workbench, pulled off the rubber gloves and accepted the warm cup of coffee. "Thank you." He replied, he took a sip as Ben handed Iain a similar cup. As he drank the liquid, Egon grimaced slightly. "I had forgotten the difference British coffee had, it is a drink that comes with an acquired taste." He replied, setting the cup down.

"How is the work going?" Ben Jr. asked as he held the tray at his side.

"With slow progress, which is to be expected from a artifact of such complexity...my Sumerian translation skills may not have seen much use since the late 90's, but I still get the gist of it." Egon replied. "From what I've been able to translate so far, the book has made reference to some previous incidents involving Gozer, depending on which alias the deity has gone under dictates which period in history the event occurred...apparently his influence goes back as far as the destruction of Atlantis."

"Atlantis is real?" Ben Jr. asked with a low whistle.

"Well, apart from the fact the question is in the standard GBI employment questionnaire...but there has been significance to prove the legend true, whether the city was known as Atlantis, or it inspired the myth we know today is yet to be decided...Vincent, however, is insistent that Atlantis may be the continent of Mu." Egon continued, taking a moment to study his notes. "The book also makes some vague references to a 'female concubine of green isle decent...' However Sumerian is nothing short of vague in itself..."

"'Green isle'? Could mean Ireland." Iain ventured.

"That is most possible Mr. Bennett, however we will need to translate more before we have a definite answer I believe." Egon mused.

"What shall I tell the others?" Ben Jnr asked.

"That presently only a few answers have surface, I'd wager a guess we won't receive any definite information until it's almost midnight, but until then normal duties should continue until something of grave importance arrives."

"Right." Ben Jr. replied, he then turned and left the lab.

"There's something else, isn't there?" Iain asked, looking up from a illuminated magnifying glass. Egon released a tired sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose, careful to replace his glasses in the proper position.

"I didn't want to mention this, not until I was totally sure...but this book hints at something big...I'm not sure as I'm still yet to decipher the text...but it could mean trouble, real, big, trouble." Iain regarded Egon for a few moments.

"I can see how someone like Dr. Venkman may consider your words a doomsaying." Iain replied.

"Indeed." Egon replied, a slightly amused glint in his eyes. "Whatever happens here...we must find out where this book originated from."

"Easier said than done...but if it did belong to one of the inmates then we'll need to find out where he might've gotten the book."

"Agreed."

* * *

**12:16PM**

* * *

Click Click. Tommy stared at the screen and frowned. He'd been given the task of tracking down the inmate who had occupied the room upstairs in the derelict part of the East Wing...and it was proving to be as bad as looking for a needle in a haystack. However, it was only the second hour he'd worked on the project, the first had been to try locate the Asylum's Records, which thankfully enough had been left in the basement of the Asylum...but looking through the building's impromptu files room wasn't an easy task, none of the files or folders were in order...only the fact that the corresponding dates and years had been written on the boxes and files had prevented Tommy from having a nervous breakdown.

He'd eventually located most of the inmates who'd been confined to the Solitary Confinement block within the last five years of the asylum's operation, now he was trawling through the online NHS records in order to find out which inmates were still alive...if any and where they'd heralded from, it was an added bonus that the files were put on post-mortem...it would've been near impossible to find the inmate if it hadn't been decided that the Patient/Doctor confidentiality priviledge ended at death.

_"National Health Service - Staffordshire_

_1900-1985_

_Search Criteria: Hospitals and Asylums_

_Patient Records_

_Southall Sanitarium (1900-1987)_

_Alyisson Rosenberg 1982-1984 (Deceased April 1997)_

_Angelina Croft- 1976-1978 (Deceased March 1978)_

_Angelus Boreanez 1979-1984 (Deceased April 1997)_

_Andrew Mellows- 1980-1982 (Deceased January 1985)_

_Brent Matthews 1929-1954 (Deceased Nov 1956) _

_Buffy Geller 1981-1984 (Deceased April 1997)_

_Buster LaMarch- 1963-1983 (Deceased February 1983)_

_Connor Kartheiser 1979-1984 (Deceased October 2003)_

_Daniel Bradford- 1970-1973 (Deceased July 1973)_

_David Beddingfield- 1975-1975 (Deceased June 1975)_

_Edward Hopper 1962-1974 (Deceased February 1974)_

_Frank Jones- 1963-1983 (Deceased March 1983)_

_Jonathan Stanford- 1934-1984 (Deceased June 1983)_

_Jimmy Sommerset- 1943-73 (Deceased November 1973)_

_Katherine Hollows- 1930-1974 (Deceased February 1974)_

_Kirstin Carter- 1942-1973 (Deceased December 1973)_

_Kurt Bishop 1983-1984 (Transferred to Southampton Mental Facility) (Deceased March 1989)_

_Lorenzo Welker- 1963-1983 (Deceased April 1983)_

_Maurace Music- 1963-1983 (Deceased January 1983)_

_Nicholas Harris 1923-1935 (Deceased January 1936)_

_Paul Dudding- 1945-74 (Deceased March 1974)_

_Samantha Reynolds 1980-1984 (Deceased January 2003)_

_Sarah Summers- 1980-1982 (Deceased October 1982)_

_Sarah Wright- 1933-1934- (Deceased August 1934) _

_Stuart Head 1945-1965 (Deceased July 1967)_

_Willow Hannigan 1982-1984 (Deceased May 1998)_

_Legend_

_-=Patients who died of Natural Causes within the medical facility._

_-=Patients who died of Unnatural Causes within the medical facility._

After noticing the June 1983 death date beside Jonathan Stanford's name, Tommy clicked on the name and was transferred to a small medical file concerning Jonathan Stanford.

"

_Name: Jonathan Stanford_

_Current Age: 84_

_Date: January 23rd, 1982_

_Period of patient's duration: 1934-Present_

_Medical Examiner: Dr. Matthew Lucas - Psychiatrist_

_Patient Notes:_

_The case of Jonathan Stanford is an interesting one...he was admitted to Southall Sanitarium in 1934 under the care of my predecessor. However upon examining his notes and reports on Jonathan's progress when he retired in 1945 has yielded a bizarre case of delusional paranoia. Apparently Jonathan had been a demolition worker since 1923 but after an incident at a quarry in 1934 was made redundant by the quarry foreman along with his fellow quarry workers. During the next year his fortunes became worse as he obsessed over a strange book he'd found upon the site. Jonathan finally developed acute paranoia and was eventually incarcerated within the walls of Southall Asylum in November of 1934. During the 11 year period between 1934 and 1945 he was under the care of Dr. Nathaniel Masters...whom I have replaced. During December of 1934, Jonathan tried desperately to convince Dr. Masters that he was perfectly sane...however this eventually degraded into the standard case of delusion upon the discovery of a book within his cell...there was an investigation into whether a staff member had brought the book in...but none of the present staff admitted to bringing the thing._

_NOTE: Jonathan has been allowed to keep the book by his side due to his ferocious protectiveness...after an assault on an orderly and failed attempts to remove it (Jonathan somehow managed to retrieve the book and would never reveal how he did so)._

_From 1934 to present he has collected data from newspapers and books while incarcerated within Solitary Confinement in the Third Floor of the East Wing of the Sanitarium. His cell contains strage drawings that he has scrawled on the walls...he seems perfectly happy with his book and seems happy to explain the details of his theories...sometimes being heavily detailed and extremely well thought out...including some rather worrying premonitions. A psychic and a paranormal investigator were contacted by the asylum staff and gave mixed reviews on the circumstances of Jonathan and his book. Both concluded that he wasn't psychic...but that he supposedly had access to some higher power which allowed him to be given these delusional premonitions...however I remain skeptical over the exact involvement that Jonathan may have with "higher powers." Of recent, there have been some complaints from the night staff of hysterical shoutings and ravings from Jonathan's cell...garbled comments including: "...the four defenders...", "...gozer...", "...the formless destructor is coming..." and "...ghost fever..." However as of this moment...I can only conclude that these are some of the delusions which form Jonathan's unusual case. I shall endeavor to continue reporting on Jonathan's progress as time moves on._

_Note: Mr. Stanford is mentioned as of dying on June 8th, 1983. Only one year before Southall is officially closed down."_

_Tommy looked at the bottom of the page and saw a second link._

_"Associated Files." Frowning at this he moved the curser over the link and clicked on it. Within a few minutes the page changed to a report written presumably by a second person._

_"Staffordshire Police Force_

_Incident: Multiple deaths under strange circumstances._

_Location: Southall Sanitarium, Burton on Trent, Staffordshire._

_Date of Incident: July 24th, 1986._

_Investigating Officer: Chief Inspector Caroline Maxwell_

_This is a first hand report of the incident I experience at Southall Sanitarium. At 7:54PM a call was made to the local Police Station in Burton on Trent by a man named Gerald Wilkins (28). Mr. Wilkins apparently had a pale and nervous appearance when he approached one of the station constables. Once he had gotten the attention of one of the constables (PC Andrews (35)) he explained a fairly shocking story about an encounter he had within the Sanitarium's basement. For this record I have included a transcript of the interview transcript:_

_Wilkins: I...I don't know how to explain this._

_Andrews: Just start from the beginning...do you want some coffee before we begin?_

_Wilkins: No...thank you._

_Pause as Wilkins cleared his throat._

_Wilkins:...I...I want to report my employer...I...I think...I think he's been burning people in the sanitarium incinerator._

_Andrews: Mr. Wilkins...I am legally bound to inform you that this is a serious accusation...do you have proof of your employer's supposed crimes?_

_Wilkins: I...I do...he was..._

_Andrews: Just start from when you entered the sanitarium celler._

_Wilkins: Yeah...I was dispatched down to the basement to collect something for one of the doctors...Dr. Bishop had apparently left a portfolio in the morgue when she'd performed an autopsy that day...so I went down there. The cellar of the place isn't used much due to most of the patients eventually leaving the place cured of their problems...though...there was some mention that more people were dying...even some talk of people disappearing..._

_Andrews: Disappearing? From their cells?_

_Wilkins: Yes...but sometimes it'd be a staff member...this one guy...Dabb...he used to work on night duty until one morning they found his post empty and no sign of him..._

_Andrews: Please continue with what happened in the cellar._

_Wilkins: Sure...so I take the lift from the ground floor to the 'Corridor to Hell'..._

_Andrews: 'Corridor to Hell'?_

_Wilkins Laughs._

_Wilkins: It's a small in joke we orderlies have...there was this rumour the place was built on a hellhole...and this corridor took so long to push a cart along that it felt like a journey to Hell..._

_Andrews nods._

_Andrews: I see...so you were in this...'Corridor to Hell'?_

_Wilkins: Yes...I entered the morgue, nothing out of the ordinary there and I made my way over to the Coroner's work area to grab the portfolio, but as I moved I heard a voice...so I creep along to the heavy swing doors which leads to the incinerator which can only be accessed via the morgue...and I can see this man through the windows in the incinerator room doors...he's naked from the waist up but he's covered in this red stuff...I could've sworn it was blood..._

_Andrews: Blood?_

_Wilkins: I can only assume it was...the windows were kinda murky so I couldn't totally see clearly_

_Andrews: Then how could you tell it was your employer?._

_Wilkins: His voice...it was crazy...but I'd recognize it anywhere...most of the staff do._

_Andrews: Understood...please, continue._

_Wilkins: Okay...so I'm in the cellar watching my employer doing something strange with the incinerator...and at one point I could've sworn it was the flames of Hades itself inside that machine...so I'm hiding behind this door...and suddenly the man turns around and walks through the door...and out into the morgue...thankfully enough he didn't see me. So I hide in a locker until he returns and once he's back in that room I took another look...then he turned around...and God almighty did that man scare me...And it was Sanitarium Administrator Forrestor...if that red stuff that covered him was blood I could've swore he was covered in it like a newborn baby...and he had this insane grin on his face...and a far off look...like he wasn't there._

_Andrews: Did he say anything?_

_Wilkins: Yeah...I had a right time trying to work it out...something to do with a 'formless one'...a 'traveler'...sounded like the right nutjobs we had upstairs in the solitary confinement wing if you ask me...sounded like this one guy we had a few years back it did..._

_Wilkins pauses for a moment...apparently collecting his thoughts._

_Wilkins: I'll say this, he hadn't seemed all that strange to begin with...nice chap...talked to staff and patient alike, no-quarrel...but he seemed to change sometime after June 1983...like he'd gone on holiday and some new bloke took up residence in his mind...he seemed less inclined to talk to people and spent god knows how long in his office...at all hours...some people barely saw him at all._

_Andrews: You will have to understand, while we will investigate this accusation...you must bare in mind that if this does appear to be a hoax you will be charged with wasting the Police's time._

_Wilkins: I swear on the life of every poor soul in that sanitarium...my employer has gone insane._

_End of Transcript_

_Based on the orderly Wilkin's report several officers were dispatched from the local police station, including myself. Once we had arrived at the Sanitarium we questioned the staff in reception where Administrator Forrestor was, one of the reception staff went to Forrestor's office but came back without him...apparently he had vanished. Accompanied by two Orderlies and Forrestor's second-in-command, a female psychologist named Stephanie Lauwence we investigated Forrestor's last known steps. We began the investigation within his office, careful to catalogue any evidence that would prove useful. The investigation then led to the cellar of the asylum which Orderly Wilkins had informed us had been the last place he'd seen Forrestor before leaving to inform the police. Splitting the police team and orderlies in half to cover both the building's lift and staircase we descended into the dark lower levels of the asylum. Once we had reached the cellar area it was noted that there was a strong smell of smoke and blood in the air. As we slowly moved towards the Incinerator Room (As indicated by Lauwence) several officers including myself overheard disconnected words shouted from where we believed the incinerator was held. Once we approached the door after passing through the main part of the morgue two of my officers extracted their truncheons and peered through the small windows and informed us that there was indeed a half naked man shouting wildly within the room...we could not confirm if he was covered in blood due to the light cast by the fire and the overall condition of the window glass. Upon my order and the arrival of the second half of the arrest team we entered the Incinerator Room to the mad cries of the man. Hearing us, he turned around and Ms. Lauwrence raised a hand as not to gag...it was indeed...from a file photo we had seen...Administrator Thomas Forrestor...his upper torso and face appeared to be covered in blood and he had a leer on his face which was similar to the description offered by Orderly Wilkins. After a short incident where Forrestor attempted to escape he was captured and handcuffed. Once we had returned to the asylum reception Forrestor began to rant and rave...in which he said the words: "You can't have my special place...I've hidden it away...you can't find it...it's protected by the formless one in my office". Acting on this two of my officers returned to Forrestor's office and began to examine the contents in more detail...eventually discovering what could only be described as a 'blasphemous shrine' to some mystic god probably invented in the obviously unstable Forrestor's mind. I ordered my officers to destroy it on sight as it offended nearly everyone who saw it...Forrestor was then sedated and taken to the Police Station where he was confined to a cell until he could be charged with murder...how many people he may have murdered cannot be determined...he may have killed dozens depending on how long he has been acting like the way he was when captured, there is always the possibility he may have always been like this but hasn't shown these symptoms before, his condition will be reviewed by a specialist when one is required._

_Note:_

_A man going by the name T. Forrestor is noted to having committed suicide in Parkhirst Prison, Isle of Wight in 1988 with a stolen belt. He was dead from hanging when found in his cell by Prison Guards. To this day nobody has been able to clearly work out the exact number of patients possibly murdered by Thomas Forrestor during his time as Administrator of Southall Sanitarium...Southall Sanitarium was closed down in January of 1987._

Tommy rubbed his chin in thought and then re-read the article. It certainly sounded too close to be a simple coincidence...and so if Jonathan Standford was the man who'd owned the book they'd found in the abandoned part of the East Wing...then where exactly did he find the book? The file made mention to a quarry which had closed down around 1934...which didn't narrow it down a great deal...he could only hope that he could trace Stanford's history back from the asylum records.

* * *

**2:24PM**

* * *

"Hmmm." Ben King Sr. mused as he stared at a definitely complex-looking shot. It depicted a room from a stately mansion, which featured a floating ghost in Edwardian dress and a levitating dining room set...including the chairs and tables. The thing which had bugged Ben about this particular picture which had been posted on the internet ten days ago was the composition...the room had been taken by someone who wasn't a professional...that was easy to detect...and the furniture truly looked like it was floating...whoever had posted it had been clever enough to do some sever blending and blurring to hide the telltale signs...but to Ben it felt like a fake...the ghost seemed just too sharp in the photo...like it had been a person in costume who'd posed for the shot...then edited onto the backdrop of the realistically floating furniture...even the slight glow effect looked realistic...but the sharpness of the spectre just didn't seem right. With this opinion and evidence at the click of his mouse he began to post the details on how it was a fake...still, there were some pics which did still baffle him, for a good time the picture of the Hampton Court spook had had him puzzled for nearly a week before he noticed some definite signs it wasn't a real ghost.

Knock. Knock.

Ben looked up at the door which led out of the lab and into the corridor.

"Enter." He called back and a few moments later the door opened and Rosey Collins, the team's second female civilian worker entered the room.

"Hey." She greeted.

"Hey." Ben replied, taking the opportunity to pop a few cricks in his neck and shoulderblades. The resulting cracking sound made Rosey wince.

"Must you do that?" She asked warily.

"Sorry." Ben replied with a slightly apologetic grin. "Is there something I can do for you?" He asked.

"Yeah...kinda. One of the guys in Iain's lab wanted you to take a look at some woodcuts in that book Iain found...said it might be interesting." She informed him.

"Sure." Ben replied. He then stood up, causing the desk chair to scoot along to the desk on the opposite side of the photography study. He then left the room and made his way to Iain's Lab where Egon, Iain and now Vincent were making notes and observations on what the book had yielded so far. He leaned on the doorframe as he watched the scholars working away. "I swear, this must be what the research wing of the National Archives must look like." Ben joked, gaining the attention of all of the occupants in the room. "Where's this woodcut you'd like me to see?" He asked as he moved over to the book.

"Here." Egon replied, he slid his own stool over to the workbench. Then carefully, he lifted up the book for Ben to see. On one page was a large woodcut depicting a large pyramid, swathed in fog and lighting. The temple held three figures...two dog-like creatures and a third...a humanoid.

"Hmm...from the descriptions of what I've heard it looked like...I'd say that looks like the Temple of Gozer."

"Exactly." Egon replied. "However...there is something written in the text that worries me." Egon added, adjusting the overhead magnifying glass to give Ben a better view of the book. "Do you see the text...here?" He indicated a passage in the text.

"Yes." Ben replied, straining to see the unusual writing.

"What worries me...is that portion of text, translated into English translates as: '...a second doorway was formed...a second coming for the Formless One...'." Egon read aloud.

"That is something to worry about." Ben commented as he rubbed his chin.

"Agreed...if the translation is precise...then this could mean that the Temple of Gozer above the apartment complex of 550 Central Park West may not be the only one of its kind...if this truly is the second coming of Gozer then it would only be appropriate that a second Temple of Gozer existed...only problem is..." Egon explained.

"We don't know where it is." Ben finished.

"Precisely."

* * *

**4:33PM**

* * *

Vincent Belmont and Professor Egon Spengler sat in Iain's lab as they continued to write long and extensive notes on the passages they'd deciphered during the previous hour's work of translation from Sumerian to English...it was their hope to eventually publish an abridged version of their notes for a report on the case...should a report be written on whatever events were to transgress.

All possible avenues of events had to be assessed...if things continued to develop both in outside events and from translation the Ghostbusters could be on the threshold of another apocalypse...however the term 'apocalypse' and what it meant didn't always come across as strongly as it used to be these days.

Iain Bennett drank from a cup of coffee as he watched the two Ghostbusters slaving away to try get a transcript ready for review by midnight...every fifteen minutes of so they'd take a break from their writing to trade notes and ideas...Iain didn't mind being excluded...he may be a demonologist but he knew when there was stuff that was just too far complex for him to solve...that's why he was glad they had access to people like Vincent and Egon to do the downright cosmically difficult stuff.

He turned and walked across the hall to the break room, inside sat the remaining members of the Day Shift and Graveyard Shift of Ghostbusters UK...until further notice, all jobs had been suspended pending rescheduling if they were to stop whatever big bad might happen...sometimes a Hell Mouth in southern California was the easy deal when you worked as a Ghostbuster. The day had progressed fairly slowly for those not involved in any of the impending duties...Ben had been set to work studying some copies of the illustrations in the book, Tommy was busy tracking down who owned the book and may've had it and brought it to the asylum...Egon and Vincent were preoccupied with their translation work and Iain himself was taking a break from checking the equipment. Inside, Roger Kenedy, Leon Vega, Adam Bestler, and Jill Valentine were playing a game of cards at the card table, Rosey Collins was grabbing a cola can from the vending machine and Eric Rose was dozing in one of the arm chairs. In the background the news summary from the Channel Five news blared from the unwatched television set.

"How're things going?" Adam asked, pausing between asking the dealer for two more cards.

"Slow...Vincent and Egon are working as fast as they can...and I'm yet to hear from Tommy on how his research is going." Iain took a quick swig from the cup. "And Ben...well...he's doing his studies of the images from the book. "Say Adam...where's Molly Ann?" Iain asked in reference to Adam's non-present girlfriend.

"Town." Adam replied. "She went out to do some shopping...said something about the fridge getting bare..." Adam replied flippantly as he returned to his game, he paused and looked back at Iain. "You look...y'know...like you got something better to be doing but can do it." He commented.

"It's just...it's ridiculous...I'm a bloody expert!" Adam looked at him with slight worry. "I really haven't had much sleep lately, I mean... hell I decoded a prophecy regarding an apocalypse in Iraq of all places. I think it's just... well a bad day for me"

"Iain...bud...even the heroes have a bad day and get cranky...don't take it personal...take a chill pill...or as I like to call them...beers, and get yourself some down time while we can still have it." Adam suggested and then went back to his game once again.

"Iain." Iain turned to face Dayshift's leader, Dr. Tommy Simpson.

"Yo." Iain greeted, saluting which his coffee cup.

"I need to go over some things with you." Tommy replied.

"Sure." Iain agreed, he then followed Tommy back to Tommy's office which was housed in the West Wing of the building. They entered the office and moved over to the computer set up on Tommy's desk.

"Okay...I did some research on the NHS's website...try see if I can locate the guy who had that book. Now apparently it belonged to some guy brought here in 1934...and eventually died in 1983...apparently he was some quarry worker who went loco and they threw him in here...for the next half a century he's treated here and dies in 1983...thought I wonder if the administrator who went nuts had something to do with that book...it says he was ranting about stuff to do with a 'formless one'." Tommy supposed.

"Wouldn't be surprising." Iain replied thoughtfully before taking another swig from his coffee cup. "Any word on where matey-boy came from before he lost his marbles?"

"Not really...I can have a look upstairs...see if anything else was left...we'd be lucky if there was anything...nothing online has given me an idea of where he came from...not even the name of the quarry."

"Keep at it anyway...whatever you can find can't be anything but helpful." Iain replied, clapping a hand onto Tommy's shoulder.

"Sure." Tommy replied. Iain then left the office to the sound of keyboard keys clattering.

* * *

**4:45PM**

* * *

Tommy opened the metal door which blocked off the abandoned third floor corridor of the East Wing and entered the gloom, the place could sure use the remodeling...even if they were simply left empty...it would ease his mind if he knew the roof of the East Wing wouldn't come crashing down...if there was time he'd discuss it at the next budget meeting.

He dodged the junk and rubble until he reached the room Iain had discovered the book in...the decaying remains of a rubber padded solitary confinement cell...Tommy sniffed the air and winced...there was a musky smell...possibly the rubber...but it barely masked the other smell which smelt vaguely like human waste. He knelt down and extracted a penlight from his field belt...the team had taken to wearing their jumpsuits on and off duty since they'd been informed that Professor Spengler would be arriving...though the suits had understandably become slightly crumpled from the continual use since that morning. He twisted the end of the penlight and then pointed it into the patch of darkness Iain had revealed...at first he saw nothing except bare wooden beams and boards...but as he poked and prodded the light further into the darkness he saw something...it was pale and looked like it was a large bound folder...or possibly a book.

At first he tried to reach for the object but found that his arm was just too short for the distance that it was from the hole...looked like whoever had put it there had deliberately slid it as far as possible, as he extracted his arm he found that the board and rubber section directly in front of the object was loose...and within a few moments three rubber squares and half a floor board were lying scattered around the cell as Tommy removed the object...it was a book, it had been originally white...or grey but was now stained tan in some places...probably from water.

He heaped the book onto one knee and illuminated it with the penlight as he opened the page. The pages were filled with long scrawls which varied in quality...some bits he could read fairly well...but some others were badly rushed and he couldn't be sure. One thing he did know for sure...within the first two pages he had read the words: Jonathan Stanford, and if those words were in the book then it must be connected. He switched off the penlight and put it back on his belt, he then quickly left the cell as he made his way to show the new discovery to the research team downstairs in Iain's lab.

* * *

**4:56PM**

* * *

"And you say you found this in the same place that Iain found the book?" Egon asked as he studied the smaller note-pad/book/collection of assorted papers that Tommy had found stuffed further away under the rubber padding of the confinement cell.

"Yes." Tommy replied.

"Interesting." Egon commented in reply. "It appears this book contains many listings of events that your patient, Jonathan Stanford, believed to be prophecies which had been hinted at by the book." He commented as he studied some of the scrawls of writing within the yellowing pages. "It appears he has made reference to some fairly large events that have and will happen."

"You think he was a seer?" Iain asked.

"Not necessarily. It's probable that the book gave him hints at what was yet to come at that stage and what is yet to come in our stage...there's a mention to something about a figure known solely as 'Romulus' which I am yet to identify in any recent events which have occurred over the last century. However it would seem that Mr. Stanford was attempting to chronicle the prophecies as each one came true." Egon added.

"Looks like he's still prophesying now after his death...it probably seemed like it was our man after he died on June 8th, 1983." Tommy replied.

"It does seem to be that case." Egon agreed.

"How is the work on the book going?" Tommy asked. Egon took the moment to rub the bridge of his nose before replying.

"Slow...but worthwhile." He commented. "We have a little under a third of the book translated and if we can continue this we should have the book finished around June 2nd."

"I assume nothing has yet yielded itself in relation to the location of the second temple?"

"Trust me...if I knew where it was you'd be the first to know."

* * *

035


	5. June 1, 2004

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

* * *

**June 1st, 2004  
Six Days Until The End Of The World  
5:00AM**

* * *

Dawn broke outside of the GBUK HQ building. Oddly enough the place was quiet, for a Ghostbusters HQ that is. Due to the shifting of duties since the book had arrived the Graveyard Shift were now operating on the same hours as the Day Shift, which did nothing for their sleep patterns. Currently Adam Bestler sat in the Break Room nursing a nasty case of insomnia...that is until the phone in reception started to ring.

"Ben...get the phone!" He shouted, after a few more moments when there was no answer he got up, muttering seven shades of hell as he went and finally answered it.

"Ghostbusters UK...they don't pay us to sleep." He muttered grudgingly into the phone. "Yeah...uh-huh...well yes...I'd say that is unusual...but the problem is we're not taking any...oh...yeah? I see...erm well...if you really want to...yeah...uh-huh...let me get that name...uh-huh...Sarah Jones? You'll be on the eight-fifteen from Marylebone? Okay...okay...I'll tell them when they get up." Adam hung up as he jotted the details down on the notepad. He then looked over at the brushed-metal button which would activate the building's alarm. He paused for a moment while in contemplation, shrugged and then pressed the button. "They were never gonna get any decent sleep anyway." he supposed as he waited for his fellow Ghostbusters to arrive.

* * *

**5:09AM**

* * *

"Well...you did ask me to ring if I needed anything." Adam replied as he watched the collection of Day Shift and Graveyard Shift team members trudge down the main staircase.

"Adam." Tommy began. "Is there a reason you'd like to tell us before we all tear you limb from limb?" He asked. Adam could see murder in his boss's eyes.

"Yeah...we got a woman coming in...a..." He took a brief moment to study the notes he'd made, continuing in a mock French accent. "Sarah Jones...she said zat she 'as a problem of ze paranormal persuasion." Adam explained.

"And did you explain to her that we're not taking any calls right now?" Iain asked, not finding the tone humorous. He was also in the mood to kill.

"I did...but she was very persuasive." Adam replied. "Besides...after what she told me we need to see her."

"Adam." Vincent began as he rubbed his forehead and adjusted his glasses. "I swear to God...if you're using this as an excuse to flirt, Scotland Yard will be receiving you in more than six pieces."

"While it pleases me to hear that my role as Romeo in this building hasn't gone unnoticed..."

"More like stalker." Ben King Sr. replied grimly.

"...I'm not openly going after our female clients...she said something about a beast she encountered a few days ago..." He again looked at his notes. "Black...ish...leather skin...horns...blood red glowing eyes...lots an lots 'o teeth...looked a bit like a dog with nasty hygiene problems." he went on.

"Sounds like a rough description of a Terror Dog." Egon replied thoughtfully.

"Which is why I allowed her to persuade me into letting her come here. Tomorrow she's taking the eight-fifteen train from Marlybone...in London? Anyone know when that gets here?" He asked.

"About nine fifteen." Rosey Collins replied helpfully.

"Okay...thanks Adam." Tommy replied. "Okay folks...looks like we're starting a little early today...let's get dressed and down to work." The team of Ghostbusters and civilian staff workers grumbled a little at the early rising but went off in the directions of their personal quarters to get dressed.

"You think this might be connected with the book?" Tommy asked as they walked back upstairs.

"The chances of a coincidence are so astronomically high that there's a better chance that Peter and Slimer would give up their corresponding differences and become the best of friends." Egon replied with a slight hint of amusement.

"And if that happened then it would definitely be the end of the world as we knew it." Vincent replied with a slight hint of a smile.

* * *

**7:45AM**

* * *

_"After the break we will bring you a disturbing report of an unprovoked attack on a police force in..."_

"What's new this morning?" Roger Johnson asked as he joined Adam Bestler on the sofa in front of the TV in the Break Room.

"Nothing that's totally interesting...something about an attack on the police."

"What else is new?" Roger asked. They waited as the ad break ended and the news returned.

_"We have received reports of an unprovoked attack occurring in Little Atherton, near the town of Penkridge, members of the local Police Authority were called to the scene in order to move a group of youths who had been seen drinking and acting disorderly when a man appeared on the scene and attacked them...we will be going straight to the scene with our outside unit. Gary...so what are the circumstances exactly?"_ The screen changed to display a man in a suit and microphone in a park location.

_"Well Michelle, at around ten 'o' clock last night a report was called into the local Police Station of a group of youths who were reported to be drunken and disorderly, so on standard practice a small team of policemen and women were dispatched to intercept and disperse the group, however they were attacked by an unknown assailant who has hospitalized almost every member of the team."_

"Do they believe the assailant was with the youths?" The female newsreader asked.

_"Not at present, however they aren't ruling it out at this time either."_ The male news reporter explained.

_"Is it true that there is actual footage of the incident as it occurred?"_ The newsreader asked.

_"That is correct...a documentary team shooting a program called 'On the Beat with Britain's Police' were working with the police when the incident occurred. They are due to give us a copy of the footage in..."_ The man paused as someone said something off-screen. _"Okay...this is a Breakfast News exclusive...we are about to broadcast the footage unedited...we do warn viewers to look away if they are easily shocked."_ A few moments of darkness were eventually replaced by the park...obviously darker and much more densely packed.

_"Just stay behind me..."_ A policeman instructed the cameraman as he and a few fellow officers approached the group. _"Excuse me sir...but do you know what time it is?"_ The policeman asked a thug in a hoodie and tracksuit.

_"No."_ The thug replied with an evident slur.

_"Well you and your friends are in breach of the public disorder act and unless you go home we will have to book you for this charge."_

_"And what if we don't?"_ The thug asked...not having heard the policeman, however before the policeman could respond a voice shouted.

_"My master will be victorious! You all shall perish in flames from the wrath of the formless one!"_ The newcomer shouted in what sounded like exultation.

_"Oh great...another one."_ A second policeman spoke.

_"Go apprehend him."_ A policewoman replied and two policemen went over to arrest the man who had slicked back brown hair and glasses. The cameraman, obviously finding something more interesting in the newcomer then the thugs began to follow.

_"Calm down sir..."_

_"You are under arrest for breaching the public disorder act...you have the right to remain silent, you do not have to say anything but if you do it may be used against you in court..."_ Suddenly the man sent a policeman tumbling to the ground, followed by the second.

_"Bloody hell...get your batons out!"_ The policewoman shouted as four policemen were dispatched to apprehend the newcomer, each one was dealt with in turn.

_"Oh god...my arms! The bastard broke my bloody arms!"_ A man cried in pain, the swear words edited out with audio 'bleeps'.

_"S-t..."_ The policewoman swore and she went over to apprehend the subject...she was only able to get one hit on hip before she was sent down. The camera, now violently shaking was sent to the ground as the cameraman and the youths fled the scene. The man walked over in the direction of the camera and got a fairly-good side shot of his face. Then a moment later he vanished through what could only be described as a portal. Both Adam and Roger were left nearly dumbstruck at the ferocity at the attack.

"I think we need to tell the others about this." Roger finally spoke.

* * *

035


	6. June 2, 2004

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

**

* * *

**

June 2nd, 2004; 6 days until the end of the world.

9:35AM

* * *

"Ms...Jones?" Ben King Jr., now manning his desk asked as a woman in her early 20s with red hair and blue eyes entered the foyer of the GBUK HQ. Slung over her shoulder was a blue duffel bag and she wore what could be described as a combination of clothes a student might ware, a set of jeans, trainers and a white T-shirt with a blue shirt on top.

"That's me." She replied. "Where to?" She asked.

"Just wait here...I'll phone someone in a moment." With that said Ben turned his attention to the reception desk, sat next to the phone used for receiving calls was a second phone system which was being trialed for inter-office communications. He studied a quick note of paper which was taped to the upper ledge of the desk and pressed the button which corresponded with Iain's Lab. "Yeah...Iain...tell the Professor she's here..." He then hung up. "Someone will be here shortly." He explained to Sarah who was sat on one of the benches in the reception/foyer area, her duffel bag lay beside the bench.

"Thanks." She replied. After a few minutes Iain exited through one of the frosted glass doors which led to the foyer.

"Ms. Jones?" Iain asked, Sarah turned to see who had spoken.

"That's me." She replied.

"Could you follow me, please?" Iain asked.

"Sure." Sarah replied as she picked up her duffel bag and got up to follow Iain.

"Thanks." Iain led the way to his lab. "My name's Iain Bennett, I work as a Demonologist here...we're hoping an outside expert who we have here at present can help shed some light on...err...your situation.

"So do I...it's not every day you dream the things I've dreamed." Sarah replied honestly. They entered Iain's Lab and made their way over to where Egon and Vincent were hunched over the book. As Iain led Sarah looked around at the odd equipment which stood around the lab. When Iain had reached his destination he coughed loudly and both Egon and Vincent looked up.

"Ah...good...you've arrived." Egon spoke as he rotated the stool he was on to stand up, a few moments later Vincent was also on his feet.

"Ms. Jones...I'd like you to meet the leader of our night time operations, Dr. Vincent Belmont and our external specialist and company founder Professor Egon Spengler." Iain introduced.

"I apologize but we must shorten the formalities." Egon explained.

"Um...okay." Sarah replied a little uncomfortably.

"Iain...could you bring the psychological activity scanner?" Egon asked.

"Sure." Iain replied and vanished off in the direction of the far side of the lab.

"Miss Jones...what we'll be doing first is performing a cranial scan while Mr. Bennett over there asks some standardized questions in relation to your problem...do you have any objections to this?" Egon asked.

"No." Sarah replied.

"Understood." Egon replied. A few moments later Iain wheeled over a cabinet which had what looked like a TV built into it. He slid it over to a power socket on the wall and plugged it in, a few moments later he began to plug in a series of rubber probes and suction cubs, a miniaturized version of the helmet adaptor which Egon had used in 1983 to diagnose Dana Barrett.

"Okay Ms. Jones. What Mr. Bennett will be doing is hooking up a series of sensors to this machine which will scan the patterns and waves of your brain and convert them into a 3D model of your brain...now in an ordinary case your face would be displayed on this screen shown in differing colours depending on your brainwave activity." Vincent explained as Iain started to stick some of the sensors to Sarah's forehead and scalp.

"Okay." Sarah replied.

"Do you have any objections to this session being taped?" Iain asked.

"No." Sarah replied after a moment.

"Okay, thanks." Iain replied and then set up a video camera on a tripod.

"Ready?" Vincent asked.

"Ready." Iain replied, he then flicked on the machine and as the screen warmed up they could see Sarah's face coloured in varius splotches of colour ranging from green, red and blue. Once the screen had booted up Egon slid a stool over to face Sarah and he placed on a stethascope with a light attached to it.

"Mr. Bennett, if you would be so kind as to ask miss Jones here some questions while I perform some examination on her."

"Sure." Iain replied and sat down on the stool to face Sarah, he took a moment to start the video camera rolling. "Okay. Does your family have any history of mental illness, such as schizophrenia?"

"Not that I know of." Sarah replied. Vincent made some notes as a slight red tinge shot across the model of Sarah's head on the monitor.

"Okay...are you using stimulants...drugs...alcohol?" Iain asked.

"No." Sarah replied.

"That's good..." For a moment Egon cast a look at Iain...as if expecting what question might've come next...if the person asking the questions was someone else.

"Okay...how long have you been experiencing these dreams?" Iain asked.

"About a week and a half now." Sarah explained.

"What do you see in them?" Vincent asked.

"I'm in a car park...it's the car park of the Dojo I work at...it's dark and I'm running." Sarah began.

"From what?" Egon asked this time.

"This thing...this...terror..." Sarah began, a slight tremble in her previously steady voice.

"It's okay...continue when you're ready." Iain reassured.

"Thanks." She replied with a hint of a thankful smile. "This...terror...it's a great big thing...black...or very dark brown skin...and the stuff was leathery...but it's head...it was like...a dog's...but squashed and with a pair of horns...but the thing which frightened me and keeps lingering with me are it's eye...they're glowing red...soulless...evil things...but I can see myself in them." She paused as she licked her lips and swallowed. Her throat had gone dry. "What does this mean?" She asked.

"We believe you may be suffering from a stress related psychic episode." Egon explained.

"Which is making me see this...'terror'?" Sarah asked.

"It's possible." Vincent commented. "We believe the creature you are witnessing in your dreams is something that Professor Spengler here tackled about 20 years ago in New York." As Vincent explained Iain slid his stool over to a filing cabinet, rustled around in one folder, extracted a piece of laminated paper and slid back over to Sarah.

"Okay...I'm going to show you an illustration of the creature Professor Spengler fought...is this the same creature you're seeing in your dreams?" Iain asked, he flipped thepicture card over and the side that faced Sarah displayed a computer illustration of a Terror Dog, it's name spelled out in bold below.

"That's it...that's the thing I'm seeing in my dreams." Sarah replied, for the first time Iain could see a hint of fear in her eyes and immediately felt bad for her.

"Ms Jones...I'd like to perform some hypnotism...if there's anything more to this then simple visions it may reveal something." Vincent asked.

"Sure." Sarah said. Vincent nodded in understanding and walked out of the lab. Five minutes later he returned with something in his hand.

"What I will do is use this pocket watch to send you into a hypnotic slumber where we can ask your unconscious mind specific questions...we can use this to see if you may be possessed by this creature." Vincent explained as he let the gold pocket watch hang at the end of it's chain by the fob.

"Okay." Sarah replied, a little reluctantly. "Will I remember any of it?" She asked.

"Absolutely not." Vincent reassured. "Follow the swing of the watch..." He began to swing the watch like a pendulum until Sarah followed it's swing with an almost catatonic gaze. "When a click my fingers you will be asleep and your subconscious mind will be ready to answer questions." Vincent instructed, he then clicked his fingers and Sarah's head lolled down as if she were staring at the floor. "Sarah...can you hear me?"

"Yes." She replied dully.

"Okay Sarah...I want you to have a look around...are you there alone?" There was a pause and Iain noted that Sarah's eyes moved about under her closed eyelids, REM or Rapid Eye Movement.

"Yes." She finally replied, then her face creased into a frown. "There's something here with me...it's...it's talking to me..." Iain studied her face as she continued to talk.

"Sarah...what does it look like?" Vincent asked.

"It's...it's horrible! It's...it's coming right at me...it's-!" Sarah was cut off, presumably by whatever she'd seen.

"Sarah?" Iain asked. "Are you okay?" He added, leaning closer in case she spoke quietly.

"You shall not stop me!"

"Ya!" Iain cried out in surprise and toppled off the stool and onto the floor.

* * *

**New York **

* * *

Suddenly one of the scanning consoles in the lab of the Firehouse began to beep wildly as the screen zoned out for a second.

"What the hell was that?" Winston Zeddemore asked in surprise as both he and Dr. Ray Stantz stared at the monitoring device in question. It had been centered on London, England.

* * *

Sarah hissed as her eyes popped open, they were blood red and glowing. Vincent gasped as he studied the monitor, replacing Sarah's brainwave pattern was that of a Terror Dog.

"You shall not stop the destructor!" Her voice was not of her own, it sounded heavy...possessed.

Vincent clamped his hand on her forehead and waved his hand over the other.  
"Dormite!" Vincent shouted.

As quickly as it had appeared it vanished and her eyes returned to normal. Her eyes closed again, but remained so for only a moment.

"Wha...what happened?" She asked as if surfacing from a bad dream.

"Something that we didn't want to see...but confirms some of our theories." Egon explained as he removed the stethoscope. "Miss Jones, I'm afraid you will need to be kept here until we can can assess the extent of the possession."

"I thought that's what might happen." She indicated the duffel bag. "Just show me where I'll be staying until...well...whatever it is which is wrong with me is dealt with."

"We'll make the arrangements as soon as possible."

"There's..." Sarah paused, as if making a hard decision. "...another reason as to why I came here...there's this man...he came into the Dojo I work at yesterday...he seemed so..." She laughed a little as if she'd been fooled. "I seriously thought he was interested..."

"What did this man look like?" Egon asked.

"Tall...blue eyes...glasses...slicked back brown hair..." Sarah described the man. "He said his name was...Hicks, Jeremy Hicks...the reason why I'm telling you about him is he got involved in a fight with the police this morning...and he...sorta...vanished." Sarah explained.

"Hmm...this changes some details...could you remain here for the moment." Egon asked.

"Sure." Sarah replied and Egon, Vincent and Iain walked over to the corridor to discuss matters.

"I can say this...if the dreams weren't a giveaway then I think the Sleepy Hollow bit was." Iain replied.

"A classic case of possession...almost textbook in comparison of the New England case." Vincent mused.

"The one which made the film The Exorcist?" Iain asked.

"Precisely." Vincent agreed. "I can only assume 'disappeared' is layman for 'used a portal'." Vincent supposed as he responded to Egon's conversation with Sarah.

"Indeed." Egon agreed. "Even if she hadn't mentioned Jeremy's name the description matches his appearance...even if vaguely."

"Well we'll need to communicate this discovery to the New York office...if the missing West Coast member is indeed claiming to be and has the power of the Key master then we have a dangerous situation on out hands." Vincent agreed.

"I read about that...Richard Roy sent a franchise-wide message that someone from that franchise was to be arrested because he'd gone AWOL, using company credits for unauthorized uses." Iain replied.

"Jeremy Hicks." Egon confirmed. "The Franchise CEOs of the West Coast Ghostbusters had made some reports that Hicks' seemed almost distracted after a job involving a pyramid in Downtown Los Angeles."

"A pyramid in L.A.?" Vincent mused with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "It sounds closer to something at the Hollywood movie studios then the Downtown area." Vincent commented.

"Quite..." Egon replied. "They believed that Hick's odd behaviour was partially caused by the loss of one of their team members and the return to position of NOMAD leader by Dr. Ron Daniels...though it seems apparent that those played small parts in his eventual disappearence."

"If he's really the embodiment of the Key Master...then he might be heading straight for here." Iain commented.

"If he knows where the Gate Keeper is." Egon replied. "While it seemed that the Gate Keeper and the Keymaster shared some form of primal telepathy...we must keep in mind that the circumstances aren't exactly the same as the last time this occurred. For whatever reason, be it accidental or deliberate the Gate Keeper, Zuul, is not the dominant life form within Miss. Jones' body, it's possible that with the Gate Keeper remaining dormant that Jeremy Hicks, possessed by the Key Master may not be able to 'lock on' to the Gate Keeper's unique essence." Egon explained.

"So he may not be on his way here?" Iain asked.

"It is only a theory." Egon replied. "Never assume when in this type of situation." He warned.

"Okay...so we may have the significant other of 'fluffy' on his way here to utterly destroy us and claim his bride." Iain replied.

"Like a bitch in heat..." Vincent deadpanned.

"So...on top of the stuff we've already done...we now also have to remain on duty in case we're attacked from two sides...the Hell Hole downstairs and the human embodiment of a Terror Dog." Iain asked.

"Precisely." Egon replied.

"...this is just another day at the office for you Egon, isn't it?" Iain asked with a slightly tired expression.

"The number of times that combination of events have potentially come up is more then I would prefer...certainly." Egon replied honestly.

"Okay...I'll get Ben's son on to arranging a place for Sarah to stay and I'll tell the others that we may be expecting company." Iain explained and vanished off in the direction of the reception area.

* * *

**11:45AM**

* * *

"You ever get the feeling we're getting a little left behind here?" Adam asked as he dealt our a new hand of cards to the three other people playing at the card table.

"What do you mean?" Roger Kennedy, team accountant asked.

"You know...Tommy's the guy looking up the guy who owned the book...Ben's handling the illustrations...Vincent and Egon are the translators and Iain's busy keeping the equipment in check." Adam replied as he adjusted his hand so that all of the cards were in their respective suits.

"Well..." Roger began. "They're really the experts in those fields...even Eric's busy fixing some bits of the equipment in case we need them."

"And last I checked..." Added Roger Johnson. "Being 'class clown' was not a field of expertise they needed." He replied with a grin as he picked up two cards.

"Laugh all you want, art boy." Adam replied as he dropped one card and picked up another.

"Besides," Leon began, "The opportunity for you to fulfill a place in our current...predicament...will surely open up sooner or later."

"To hell with you and your mystical philosophies Vega." Adam replied. "Bust." He replied in annoyance and threw down his cards.

"I've come to find that my...'mystical philosophies' have come to serve me well, Adam." Leon replied...with the ghost of a smile touching the edges of his mouth. "Now...do you want to pick up those cards, deal again and try win or shall I let Roger pummel you?" Leon asked, causing Adam to look at him quizzically.

"What in the hell was THAT supposed to mean? Sometimes I don't know whether you're a human or a machine Leon...I swear." Adam replied.

"Sometimes it can be neither." Leon replied as he looked over the top of his sunglasses. The luminous quality of his eyes sent a shiver down Adam's spine.

"Would you not do that already? It's bad enough when we get up for 'breakfast' at eight in the evening and the light's weak enough for you not to wear those shades."

"C'mon Adam...you bring it on yourself each time you remark about them." Roger Johnson replied curtly. "You know it's been your 'thing' since that little escapade with that nutball from the Sun."

"Hey! How was I to know that Sarah Lionheart was a nutcase?" Adam asked.

"Err...the restraining order the guys are trying to get put on her ever since she came here." Roger Kennedy added.

"Oh yeah..." Adam replied.

* * *

**12:21PM**

* * *

"Everything in check?" Iain asked as he trained a Proton Gun on the large black void in the floor.

"So far..." Eric replied as he studied his PKE Meter and a few instrumental panels. "No recent activity...it looks like everything's clear." He reported. Both Iain and Eric stood in the ruins of the old church beneath the GBUK HQ, the Hell Hole which had caused so much concern in recent months stood near the stone alter, it's rim eternally stained brown from numerous sacrifices.

"Good." Iain commented as he clipped the gun back onto his Proton Pack. "Last thing we need are the forces of darkness stopping by for dinner with all that's going on at present."

"I hear you." Eric agreed. He set the instruments back onto unmanned scanning and they both exited the Sub Basement. "You ever think about concreting over that thing?" Eric asked as Iain locked the room down and reactivated it's PKE proximity sensors. They dropped off the Proton Pack in the armoury and left the room.

"We did at one point...but this thing could be like the well discovered in Amityville, Long Island...it could go on forever." Iain explained as they walked back towards the lift. "Besides...the budget wouldn't cover it."

"Heh." Eric chuckled. "We have just enough money to cover equipment and basic living costs...but not to cover anything too flashy."

"We work with what we have." Iain supposed. They remained in silence for a few minutes until the lift arrived at the ground floor with a soft ping, a moment later the doors slid open.

"Yeah well I still think we need to start buying some extra power cells in case anything goes down here...and some Proton Turrets in the Sub Basement would be nice." Eric mused.

"When you invent it then we can put it into the budget meeting...bare in mind there's several other things yet to be bought as well." Iain replied

"I know...still I'd like to start putting some new stuff together...I feel we're falling behind the other franchises," Eric added, "Vincent's franchise in Manhattan has some kick ass gear...but it has wierd wiring, arcane doohickeys, and other strange stuff that only he and those other magicians can put together."

"Well...I know that Ben has something in the works...plus I have a few ideas myself. But we can see what becomes available...okay...I'm gonna type up all the boring reports...by the way...how's that trap coming?" Iain asked.

"It's...uh...out of commission." Eric reported. Iain meanwhile had put both of his hands on his hips.

"You've dismantled it...haven't you?" He asked, knowing better.

"Erm...yeah." Eric replied.

"Just as long as it's back in one piece before the month's over then I don't really care."

"Right." Eric agreed and they parted.

* * *

**10:25PM**

* * *

Ben tapped the end of the pencil against the keyboard as he contemplated what to do next, finally deciding on something he booted up the computer and then logged onto the internet. He loaded up the AOL Instant Messenger system and checked the list of online contacts.

"Good." Ben approved. "He's on."

_Kingpin1055: Good to see you online, Richard  
GBIExecutive: Ben...good to hear you...seems all of GBUK will be needing me one of these days.  
Kingpin1055: Yeah...we're kinda having some fairly big goings on...I was wondering...could you do me a favour?  
GBIExectutive: Depends on the favour  
Kingpin1055: I need you to page Dr. Stantz to log onto the new system if that's possible...I'd like to ask him if he could send me the structural details of 550 Central Park West  
GBIExecutive: Central Park West? This have anything to do with Vincent's request for Professor Spengler a few days ago?  
Kingpin1055: More then you'd imagine.  
GBIExectutive: I'll see what I can do...no promises though._

Several minutes passed before Richard returned to the messenger.

_GBIExecutive: Okay...he's agreed to go online...he should be online in a few minutes.  
Kingpin1055: Thanks Richard...I owe you.  
GBIExecutive: A lot of people seem to these days..._

With the conversation rounded up Ben logged off of the AIM chat system and onto GBI's, making sure that it was a secure chat area. After a few moments a single contact appeared in the online user's window.

_BenKingSnr has been sent a private instant message from:  
DrRayStantz_

Accept Message?

Ben clicked on the obvious option and was taken to the chat window.

_DrRayStantz: Ben, it's good to hear from you...in an instant messenger sense of course.  
BenKingSnr: It's good to hear from you too si...err...Ray.  
DrRayStantz: Attaboy.  
DrRayStantz: Richard said something about a request of structural details on the Shandor Building?  
BenKingSnr: That's right...I've been set the tast of checking the woodcuts in the book...and one of them contains a woodcut of something which looked remanescent of the temple in New York.  
DrRayStantz: I see...  
BenKingSnr: So I wanted to get a look at the architectural blueprints of the building in New York so I could see if the two are identical...would it be possible if you could get me some scans of the blueprints/plans?  
DrRayStantz: I'd have to pull some favours with the people at the Hall of Records...they weren't exactly happy about the plans ending up in the lockup the last time they were out...but I think I can get them fairly easily.  
BenKingSnr: Thank you so much Sir.  
DrRayStantz: But I need two favours in return.  
BenKingSnr: Sure.  
DrRayStantz: First, stop calling me 'Sir'...call me Ray.  
BenKingSnr: Okay.  
DrRayStantz: Second...if you spot any Captain Steel and/or Dr. Who stuff going for a very cheap price, then put it among Spengler's things to take back home when he leaves :D  
BenKingSnr: I'll see what I can find  
DrRayStantz: Okay...this will most likely take a day...I'll send the scans to your company's email when I'm done.  
BenKingSnr: Thankyou.  
DrRayStantz: Until then wish Egon luck from us here.  
BenKingSnr: I will._

DrRayStantz has logged off.

Ben then logged off and shut down the computer...he was going to have a lot of work set ahead for him to do.

* * *

**Los Angeles, California**

**7:30 PM**

* * *

It was late in the day and the sun was setting on the horizon as the white and orange former S.W.A.T. van known as the Ecto-1S cruised down the highway, on the way to another job. Michael Chad manned the driver's seat, while beside him sat South Team leader Kyle Stevens, rifling through some paperwork in his lap. In the back of the van, Peter Kong was stretched across a bench, napping, while on the bench across from him sat Jeff Nash, fiddling with a large, round yellow object, a type of Ghost Trap that for Dr. Nash, also doubled as a shield. At least one person in the van was also wondering how Kong could sleep through the blaring of Chad's rap music.

Dr. Nash tried to take his mind off the lyrics about slapping prostitutes and wearing excessive amounts of platinum jewelry, and focus on the job at hand. It was then that it occurred to him that he didn't actually know what the job was. "So what're we up against?" he called out. The 'music' was so loud that Jeff had to lean his head between the front seats and yell to ask the question and be heard.

Kyle chose to avoid yelling, actually reaching for the volume knob and turning the noise down. Chad looked over at him, seemingly offended. "What's up wit' the hatin'? Those're my tunes, dawg!"

Dr. Stevens ignored him completely, holding a sheet of paper up to the dome light that was allowing him to read as the sky grew dark. "According to the worksheet, one of the lions at the zoo mutated or something and escaped. It grew wings, spiny protrusions all over its body, and a human-like face. Hmm...must be a Manticore."

Jeff blinked a few times, wondering if he'd heard him right. "How did you know that? I should be the only one able to name a creature like that from memory. Come to think of it, you've been beating me to the punch like that a lot lately. Spill it, Stevens. How does a surgeon rival an occultist in monster knowledge?"

Kyle smiled knowingly. "I've been studying."

Jeff just rolled his eyes and sat back. "So what else've you got there? It's not more work is it?" With that, he let out a groan to express how displeased he would be at the idea.

Dr. Stevens looked at another sheet of paper in his pile. "Nah, just some paperwork I have to look over. Standard reports faxed in from other franchises. You know what? You're not doing anything important, right? Would you mind looking at some of these for me?"

"Anything to take my mind off Chad's music and Pete's snoring," Jeff joked. Kyle handed him a few sheets of paper and he turned on one of the lights in the back of the van so he could read. After a few minutes, Jeff's eyes lit up and he leaned forward to get Kyle's attention again. "Look at this, Kyle. Correspondence from Dr. Jackson up at the 'home office.' They liked my proton pistol redesign so much they're implementing it up there too."

"Congratulations, Jeff. I know how hard you and Otter worked on that thing. Must feel very gratifying to have something you've designed become standard equipment, huh?"

Moments passed and Jeff didn't respond, so Kyle leaned back, wondering what had caused the pause. He could see a grave expression on Dr. Nash's face. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Jeff swallowed hard and read from the sheet in front of him. "'On May 27th in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, Doctors Walker and Davis of freelance GBI team E.C.T.O. Canada encountered an unidentified man roughly five and a half feet tall with slicked back curly brown hair, eyeglasses, and a slight overbite, who appeared to have knowledge of GBI equipment and protocol...'"

"That sounds like Jeremy! They've found him? What's he doing in Canada?"

"You're not the only one who thinks so. The letter actually gives positive ID: Jeremy Hicks. There's more," Jeff went on, a grave tone in his voice. "He summoned a horde of demonic creatures resembling Terror Dogs to his service and was heard making mention of 'the coming of the traveler,' and referring to himself as..." He froze.

"As what?" Kyle asked desperately.

Jeff looked up at Kyle right in the eyes to emphasize the seriousness of what he was about to say. "...as 'The Keymaster.'"

That little nugget of information caught even Chad's attention. "Oh snap."

Kyle turned at Chad, and in his most serious tone began barking orders. "Turn the van around. Turn it around!" He pulled out his cellphone and began immediately dialing Dr. Venkman's number.

"But what about the Manti...thing?"

"It can wait," Jeff agreed, the same tone of desperation in his voice as was in Kyle's. "We have to get back to the Warehouse. NOW."

Bystanders would've been stunned at the sight of the big, bulky van suddenly doing a U-turn right in the middle of an overpass, sirens blaring and tires screeching as it raced off back in the direction it came, twice as fast. Peter Kong was certainly stunned when the violent swerve sent him rolling right off his bench and woke him up with a crash.

"Aww man...I landed on my Gameboy!"

* * *

"And you're sure it was Hicks?"

Peter Venkman sat in his office at GBWC headquarters, leaning forward with his hands folded in front of him, instead of his typical lying back with his feet up on the desk pose. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and swimming trunks, as he had just come from lounging on the beach as soon as he'd received the call from Doctor Stevens. Stevens and Nash now stood in his office, addressing him. Co-C.E.O.s Fritz Baugh and Joey Williams were also present.

"The description seems to match," Jeff confirmed. "Furthermore, Michael and I accessed his GBI Supercard records, and according to the receipts, he did indeed purchase a plane ticket to Toronto late last month. And most recently, he bought a ticket to England. For what reason, I don't know, but it can't be good given what he did in Canada."

"Well that tears it, then," Williams sighed, "the little guy's possessed."

Dr. Nash arched an eyebrow. "By Vinz Clortho? But how? The temple in Central Park West is gone. I remember seeing it on the news when I was a kid, the explosion was gi-normous."

"Well that's one way of putting it," Venkman chuckled. He tried to ignore the reminder of his age inherent in what the nearly thirty year old occultist had just said. "Guys, there's something I should tell you. I didn't think it was important until now, but it looks like it just became our business."

"What is it, sir?" Dr. Baugh asked, his tone stoic as ever, despite the situation.

"A few days ago, the UK team found a book in the old asylum they're using for their HQ. It was written in Sumerian and the name translated to roughly 'The Book of Gozer.' Spengs left for England the next day to take a look at it."

Fritz nodded his head in understanding. "That cannot be a coincidence."

"So what do we do now, Peter?" Joey asked, a deep sense of worry creeping into his voice.

"We've got to get to England," Stevens chimed in. "Jeremy's our responsibility."

"Correction," Fritz retorted. "Mr. Hicks is our responsibility. He was a member of North Team, North Team should go. We need people to stay behind and take care of business here."

"If I may offer a suggestion," Jeff protested, "North Team doesn't have anyone nearly as knowledgeable in what we're dealing with here as myself, and we also use several pieces of equipment that only Otter, Robert, or I would know how to repair. You also have a rookie member who is unprepared for a confrontation with a Class Seven entity, and with the recent roster changes, we need more than five people to stay behind and pick up the slack."

"So what're you suggesting?" Joey prodded.

"I say we send a small group of us to England, based on what skills we have to offer that may be necessary there."

"Alright, so who am I takin'?" Venkman asked, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well," Jeff continued, "We'll need a leader, so Joey, me for obvious reasons, Fritz is as smart as they come, and...we'll need a guide around Britain, so I suggest Griffiths."

"Everyone okay with that?" Venkman looked around the room, gauging their reactions. Everyone seemed to nod their heads in agreement.

Joey stepped out the door, calling "I'll let Rob know and have Chelsea book the flight" back to the group.

"You can count on me to take care of things here at home, sir," Dr. Stevens all but saluted. "I won't let you down."

"Good man," Peter got up and patted him on the back, then casually tossed a hand through his hair and gave the others his trademark Cheshire Cat grin. "Pack your bags, boys. We're going to England."

* * *

To Be Continued

* * *

035


	7. June 3 and 4, 2004

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

* * *

**June 3rd, 2004 5 days until the end of the world **

**12:45PM **

* * *

Most of the morning passed without incident. Tommy continued trying to track down Jonathan Stanford's past with no great measure of success. Egon and Vincent continued to translate more of the Book of Gozer, and Iain performed a routine ECU check and the rest of the team took in target practice and recreational activities.

During the day most of the two divisions had met and got to know their new guest, Sarah Jones. At present, Sarah was taking her fury out on the staff punching bag in the GYM/Fitness area set up on the ground floor of the building near the offices. She grunted as she dealt the bag a series of punches, kicks and even the odd thrust with her shoulder. After ten minutes of this she let the bag swing slowly as she wiped herself down with a towel.

"Tough training, eh?"

She looked up to see Tommy Simpson, taking a break and in jogging trousers and white T-shirt leaning against the doorjamb.

"Yes...I must keep my skill focused." Sarah replied, matter-of-factly.

"Never said it wasn't." Tommy replied as he walked over to a treadmill, switched it on and began to jog at a quick pace. After several minutes of jogging he slowed the machine to a halt and paused to look up at Sarah who was looking back at him.

"What's it like...you know...busting..."

"Ghosts?" He asked, finishing for her, and for a moment there was a flicker of gratitude in her eyes.

"Yes." She replied.

"Well...it's different...I know we've been compared to paranormal "janitors" by certain members of the press. Hell, we're called fakes quite regularly...but there's something more to it then cleaning up litter...I guess when you've defeated an apocalypse you feel on top of the world." Tommy supposed.

"Until that feeling goes." Sarah continued.

"More like when people forget about you altogether…" he grimaced, "...but even then, there's the idea that we do something so dangerous...so advanced… that we are the experts in the field...we never had this type of determination when we worked as S.P.R.I.G." Tommy explained.

"Sprig?" Sarah asked.

"Senior Paranormal Research and Investigation group. It was something Iain Bennett and a photographer friend of ours started about four years back." Tommy explained.

"Ah." Sarah replied in understanding. "I'd better get going...your Professor Spengler and Dr. Belmont are wanting to conduct some tests on me later." Sarah replied as she began to leave the room.

"Sure." Tommy replied.

* * *

**5:00PM **

* * *

Ben King SR continued to make some observations from a series of sketches until the computer, which was sat on the desk behind him, chimed to get his attention. He slid the chair along to the desk and booted up the screen to see what he was being called to; which was in fact new email. He opened up the Hotmail viewer and spotted that there were three emails; one from Ray Stantz, one from GBI, and another from an address he didn't recognize.

He double clicked on the address he didn't recognize and was relieved to see that the email didn't contain a virus. However...it did contain some slightly worrying info that he'd relate to the other Ghostbusters once he'd finished checking the email. The GBI message simply turned out to be info about an upcoming recruitment drive. However the email he had been waiting for had arrived.

_"From:  
To: _

_Subject: Building specifications _

_Ben, _

_It took some time but I found what you had asked for...you should find scans of the architectural and structural details of the Shandor Building...I hope they prove useful...hope Egon's finding the book easy to translate. _

_-Ray Stantz." _

Ben clicked on the attachment download button and waited as the files were placed on the computer's desktop, with that done he opened up the first file which was fairly large but shouldn't take up too many pieces of A4 paper when printed. Once he'd checked to make sure all of the files were uncorrupted he set about printing out each and every document.

* * *

**5:05PM **

* * *

"Guys." Ben spoke as he entered Iain's lab. Vincent, Egon and Iain, who'd entered the room to help perform some of the other duties relating to equipment checking and translation, looked up at the sound of Ben's voice.

"Yes?" Egon asked.

"We've got a slightly late email from a..." Ben paused to check the print out of the email. "Dr. Brian Walker of..."

"E.C.T.O. Canada." Egon finished. "What have they reported?" he asked.

"They've confirmed that Jeremy was involved in this incident in Toronto we've been hearing about..." Ben replied.

"Well, that confirms some of the specifics that I've been told about...do they have anything useful to contribute?" Vincent grumbled as he took a sip of Earl Grey.

"That wasn't very nice," Iain interjected. Vincent only glowered back.

"Erm...the use of portals...and..." Ben squinted to make sure he didn't misread it. "Terror Dogs." Egon, Vincent and Iain all shared the same look.

"That wasn't in the movie!" Iain protested.

"Highly conclusive, Iain. Suppose for a moment that we _aren't_ in a movie?" Vincent droned, as he returned his attentions to his work.

"We weren't aware he could summon more of the Terror Dogs...it seems that Vinz's powers have been fully unleashed..." Egon said.

"Why not?" asked Vincent, still engrossed in his work, "according to the book, Vinz's race was the Sebhoullia, a warrior tribe from a distant world. When Gozer absorbed them into its own collective, their king, Vinz Clortho, was spared as a separate entity, not unlike Zuul. Now, they act as a consciousness separate of Gozer, taking possession of other forms to enact the ritual of Summoning."

There was a stunned silence from the other three men. Vincent turned around, and found them staring at him.

"…what?" he grunted.

"I wonder what the difference between Jeremy and Louis is?" Egon pondered.

"Apart from the fact that Louis was a dweeb?" Iain asked, the question prompting a chuckle from both Vincent and Egon.

"As entertaining as that was...there must be more to it than that..." Egon replied.

"Just thought I'd let you guys know...confirming that he was in Canada." Ben replied.

"Thank you." Egon replied. Ben left the room.

"It's getting to you...not knowing why Vinz has been given access to powers while in Jeremy's body and not Louis'." Vincent mused. It was a statement that made Egon wince. Egon was unsure whether Vincent had just read his mind, or if he had made an alarmingly accurate educated guess. Egon guessed that it was the former, rather than the latter.

"It is. When he inhabited Louis's body, he was docile; almost as if he'd been sedated. He hadn't been coherent and hadn't appeared to possess any form of power...but the ability to open portals, potentially to escape unwanted attention and to call forth members of the Canus Terroris family...these are things we haven't come across from this type of entity." Egon explained.

"And if he can do that...what else can he do?" Iain asked.

"This…" Vincent mumbled as he set down his teacup and propped the book up so that the other men could see, pointing to a peculiar diagram.

* * *

**10:45PM **

* * *

Ben King JR sat at the reception desk manning the computer terminal. He shifted slightly in the chair, and the blue flight suit he wore was itching...badly. Adam Bestler had told him it would do that for something like half a week...and Ben could only hope that he could also recommend a good lotion for it.

He was busy checking that all of the cases had been postponed when a pop-up from the MSN/Hotmail system reported that they had one new message. He moved the mouse cursor over the popup, clicked it and the email message was displayed on the screen, it was dated June 2nd.

_"To: From: _

_Hello English Tea-Drinking Ghostbusters, _

_Sorry...I couldn't resist :) . No doubt you guys have heard about our missing team member Jeremy Hicks...if not then I'm gonna pay a visit to our web monkeys at GBIWeb for not posting the info...whatever. Anyway...we've found out that 'ol Jeremy's been making flight charges to the company account after he went missing from here...they point to him going to little 'ol England after that little game he played in Toronto with E.C.T.O. Canada...so we're getting over there as soon as possible. The guys tell me he may not simply be AWOL...or suffering a breakdown...it would explain the strange powers he was reported to have had when he ran into Brian's mob in Canada...something about him being possessed by the Keymaster. Tell Egon that we're booked on the 9:15PM LA to London flight due out two days from now and should be there sometime around...er...one in the afternoon of the 5th? We're heading for Heathrow...but we'll give you a call from the plane...or something like that. I can guarantee we're gonna be there for a few days so put some brewskies on ice. _

_Yours, lovingly :) _

_Dr. Peter Venkman, Company CEO. _

_PS. Tell Egon and Spooky I said 'hi'." _

"Marvelous." Ben muttered.

* * *

**10:50PM **

* * *

"Professor Spengler...there's a...message...for you." Ben King JR reported as he leaned on the door of Iain's lab.

"What about?" Egon asked.

"I think you ought to see it." Ben replied.

* * *

**10:56PM **

* * *

"I see your point." Egon commented as he studied the email.

"Is there a problem?" Ben JR asked.

"Yes," Egon mused, "don't let Vincent see this email."

"Why, is it something that might bother him?"

"You'll see if Venkman ever talks to Vincent when he gets here."

Ben JR only shrugged.

Standing next to Egon was Tommy Simpson. "Looks like the VIP Suite may need some extra beds." Egon commented with a dry tone in his voice.

"We have some camp beds stored in the basement." Tommy replied.

"They should do...we're going to be receiving and unknown number of Ghostbusters from the West Coast division...and Dr. Venkman...It looks like we may have to set aside some of our own members if they intend to look for their missing team member. We'll also need to use one of your vehicles to pick them up from the airport." Egon commented.

"It won't be easy...Heathrow's a good distance away. I could take Ben's mini...but I doubt that'd be big enough...looks like we're taking one of the Ectos."

"Agreed...would it be possible for you to greet the team members when they arrive?" Egon asked, looking Tommy dead in the face.

"I guess I can." Tommy replied with some reluctance. "Though it'll affect trying to find out which quarry the temple may be at."

"It's a unfortunate side effect...but we will need someone to bring them here...I suggest you take one of the other staff members with you...maybe Eric from your night time operating team."

"Yeah...he's the most trustworthy person who I can get without affecting anything important." Tommy agreed.

* * *

June 4th remained fairly uneventful. Egon and Vincent continued performing translation work on the book while Iain, along with Eric, Ben (When he could spare the time) and Roger Kennedy started searching the nearby towns for Jeremy, until the West Coast Ghostbusters could arrive. Hopefully, they would bring some data with them, as the members of Ghostbusters UK had to rely on the readings collected by Professor Spengler in 1983...which may not prove all that useful depending on how the signal may have changed from Vinz inhabiting Louis Tully to inhabiting Jeremy Hicks.

* * *

042


	8. June 5, 2004

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

* * *

**June 5th, 2004 3 days until the end of the world  
10:45AM **

* * *

The Ecto-UK's engine rumbled as Eric and Tommy prepared to depart from the building's garage.

"You know which motorway you're taking down there?" Iain asked.

"Yeah...we'll start on the A518 and eventually work our way onto M6...from there it's pretty much plain sailing until we get near the M40...and then one turn off onto the M25 and we should be there." Tommy explained.

"Well I don't envy you guys...it's gotta be something like a four hour round trip." Iain commented.

"Yeah...and from what I hear two hours is a long time to be in the same room as Dr. Venkman." Eric added from the driver's seat.

"Well, have a safe trip..." Iain replied.

"Thanks...we'll probably need it if the M25 is as bad as it usually is." Tommy replied with a smirk. With the well wishing over Eric shifted the Ecto-UK into second gear and pulled out of the garage and onto the driveway, which swept around from the front of the building to the rear garage.

* * *

**1:54PM **

* * *

Nearly two hours later, Tommy and Eric found themselves within one of the Terminal Buildings of Heathrow Airport.

_"...Flight BA295 Los Angeles to London is now arriving at gate twenty-one...Flight BA295 Los Angeles to London is now arriving at gate twenty-one..."_ The announcer called over the loud bustle of people milling about one of the main Terminal 3.

"C'mon. That's their plane." Tommy motioned to move.

"Yeah." Eric agreed and they began to make their way to the appropriate gate. While they both wore their blue GBUK flight suits, combat boots and webbing belts they also wore leather jackets over the tops of their flight suits...though it did little to persuade the armed security guards not to keep a watch on them.

As they neared gate twenty-one they spotted a large group of passengers moving away from what was apparently the gate they were looking for...however they didn't spot anyone who looked like the party of Ghostbusters they were expecting. They looked around for a few minutes before they heard a slightly irate American voice coming from the corridor to the plane.

"...I swear she was coming onto me! ME! I mean I'm married for Christ's sake!"

"Dr. Venkman…" Both Tommy and Eric muttered in unison.

"Y-es?" Peter Venkman's head popped out of the corridor with his trademark Cheshire grin...however it vanished as soon as he saw the two non-impressed Ghostbusters. He then exited the corridor, followed by four men.

The first man had a wild mop of reddish-brown hair and a pair of thick-rimmed blue glasses. He was a lanky young man, and he walked next to Peter with a perfect posture. His head kept turning back toward the gate, nervously watching the guard.

The second man had brown hair in a simple short cut. He had a slight smirk on his face as he followed briskly behind Peter, slightly amused by the situation at the gate.

The third was a disheveled blond man with a cigarette in his mouth, and a permanent five o' clock shadow. He ambled next to Peter on his left, with his hands in his pockets, and his expression utterly bemused.

The last person to join the entourage was a positively pale and paranoid looking man with a chin beard and long black hair who scanned the room for what Tommy could only assume were potential hazards.

"Dr. Simpson!" The blond man greeted.

"Do I know you?" Tommy asked with a slightly quizzical look on his face.

"Robert Griffiths...I talked last year about a position on your team." Robert explained.

"Oh yes...I remember now. It was right after that whole nasty affair in the Atlantic. Welcome to Britain, gentlemen." Tommy greeted.

"Tommy...it's good to see you again." Peter shook hands with Tommy.

"As it is to see you...Dr. Venkman." Tommy replied.

"Call me Peter." Peter replied matter-of-factly.

"Okay...Peter." Tommy replied with a slightly nervous grin. "Anyway..." he broke the handshake. "I'd like to introduce Eric Rose, acting leader of GBUK's Graveyard Shift division when Vincent Belmont isn't around."

"Eric." Peter greeted.

"So, how is little Spooky?" Peter grinned, "I can't wait to give him a big huggy, and pinch those cute little cheeks!"

"It's...interesting to finally meet you...Peter" Eric mumbled, taking a step away from Peter, looking at him as if he'd just contracted Anthrax, "...your fame definitely proceeds you."

With those words, both the brown haired man and Robert snickered slightly while the man with glasses raised a quizzical eyebrow in a fashion that sent a shiver of deja vu down Tommy's spine.

"Really?" Peter grinned.

The man with glasses made a loud coughing sound. "Oh...yes. Tommy, Eric, I'd like you to meet West Coast division members Dr. Fritz Baugh, GBWC Co-CEO." The man with glasses made a slight nod of notification. "Joey Williams, GBWC Co-CEO."

"Hi." The man with brown hair and green eyes spoke.

"Two CEOs?" Tommy asked.

"It's mostly so he can push off the paperwork on me." Fritz responded dryly.

"It gives me more time to supervise!" Joey added brightly.

"Robert Griffiths...whom you've already met. And the man looking like the airport is full of terrorists is our resident occultist, Jeff Nash." Jeff also made a slight nod of his head, and immediately turned around, scanning the walls of the packed hallway.

"While under normal circumstances I wouldn't mind discussing certain matters pertaining to our respective franchises...at present I think we should skip the fraternizing until a more appropriate time." Fritz droned, carrying a no-nonsense tone that rivaled Egon Spengler.

"Err...yeah...what Fritz said." Peter replied with a lop-sided smirk... but first we need to get our luggage." He added.

"Sure." Tommy replied, and both he and Eric waited as the West Coast Ghostbusters collected their luggage from the rotating conveyor in the collection area. Once collected, the West Coast Ghostbusters joined up with the two members of Ghostbusters UK.

"Look...they're probably gonna need a few minutes to grab their equipment from the shipping depot...I'm just gonna go phone HQ to let them know that they've arrived safely." Tommy explained.

"Sure." Eric replied and Tommy walked off in the direction of a set of public telephones. He fed several coins into the machine and dialled the number of GBUK HQ. For a few moments the phone rang with no answer before it was picked up.

_"Ghostbusters UK - Ridding England of ghosts one at a time..."_ Ben JR's voice replied.

"Hey Ben...it's Tommy." Tommy spoke into the phone.

_"Hey...everything okay?"_ Ben asked.

"Yeah...I'm just phoning to inform you guys that the team from California is safe and well and that we should be leaving the airport within the next twenty minutes or so." Tommy reported.

_"Cool...I'll let the others know."_

"You do that...we're pretty much ready to leave now, see you guys when we get home." He then hung up the phone and strode back over to where Eric was waiting. All five Ghostbusters from California had a luggage trolley with a large box set on it. "I'm guessing I don't need to guess what those are?" Tommy asked.

"Well...you could..." Peter began. "But I think you already know."

"Right." Tommy replied with slight wary.

"You got everything?" Eric asked.

"Yep." Robert replied.

"Okay guys, just follow us to the car park...our vehicle's parked outside." They remained in relative silence as they walked over to the Ecto-UK which was parked right where Tommy said it would be. The vehicle stuck out like a sore thumb with the visible logos, lighting rigs and equipment.

"Nice set up." Peter commented as they loaded their equipment into the ambulance. Tommy shrugged.

"It works." He replied.

"And I am eternally glad that I am not spending my remaining years in a Cadillac ambulance in New York." Peter replied as he dumped a suitcase into the rear compartment.

"Dr. Stantz's driving?" Eric asked.

"Not one of the things I miss having moved to LA...certainly." Peter replied honestly, with the loading finished the collected Ghostbusters climbed into the ambulance and began the journey back to GBUK HQ in Staffordshire.

"What did you do with the old Ecto-1? I heard it had been decommissioned and a new one was made." Eric asked.

"Gave it to Vinny and company as a launch gift," Peter chuckled, "he didn't think it was so funny that we gave it to him complete with non-working engine."

The six men looked nervously at each other.

* * *

**2:06PM **

* * *

"Guys...that was Tommy. He says that the California guys are safe and sound and that they were ready to leave Heathrow." Ben King JR reported.

"Excellent." Egon approved. "By my estimation that means they should be arriving back here around four 'o' clock if the traffic is as good on the return trip as it was on the trip to the airport. Has the VIP suite been set up to accommodate our new guests?" Egon asked.

"Most of it...though we've had to put some of the extra beds in the guest accommodations because there wasn't enough room." Ben reported.

"Good..." Egon added. With the job performed Ben left the room.

"We'll have to make sure that their equipment's all charged up once they get here." Iain commented as he went over the list of jobs performed the previous day.

"Indeed...we will need to ensure all of the Proton Packs are ready for action should Jeremy attempt to retrieve Sarah from here." Egon mused.

"Speaking of which...where is she?" Iain asked.

"Sarah? Last time I noticed her she was exploring some of the building."

"Is that wise?" Iain asked. Egon merely stared back.

* * *

**2:06PM **

* * *

"...I don't like it..." Sarah looked up and saw Adam and Roger Kennedy walking along the main corridor of the basement.

"Face it Adam...until this thing quiets down we've got to keep a watch on both the armoury and the Hell Hole..."

She crept out of the shadows and watched as the two Ghostbusters walked towards the end of the obscenely long corridor. She proceeded down the corridor and found a large metal door. It stood ajar, and hearing sounds within, she entered the room. Within the room, she was taken back by the large device which sat in the middle of the floor and reached up to the ceiling. It was large and round, most of the device appeared to be constructed from sheet metal which was painted red, but here and there were small chunks of what looked like stone block with wires trailing from them.

All around the walls and ceiling were wires, pipes and conduits of various sizes and colors, which either ran into the central device, a bank of monitors near the back of the room or through the walls. She walked over to the bank of monitors and studied what they read.

One monitor read: Coolant System: Operating within Normal Parameters, another read: Total Confinement usage: 25% Full, another read: Laser Grid: Operating and another one read: Containment Status: Normal. All of the controls and screens were alien to her but they all appeared to be working in relation to the strange central device within the room.

"Hi! Who are you?" A voice asked. She swore under her breath and turned around to be greeted by a woman's suspicious gaze.

"Sorry...I was just looking around and found this room." She replied, gesturing at the Containment area.

"Right." The woman with green eyes and glasses replied as she made a few more notations on a clipboard she was carrying and slotted it onto a hook the wall.

"What is this...thing?" Sarah gestured at the central device.

"That would be our Ecto Containment Unit...where we store all of the ghosts we capture." The woman replied. "I don't think we've met each other yet...I'm Rosey Collins." Rosey introduced herself.

"Sarah...Sarah Jones." Sarah replied.

"Ah." Rosey replied in understanding. "You arrived here yesterday...The others upstairs were performing some tests on you."

"Yes." Sarah replied. She glanced over to a panel set onto the wall; it had a switch that could be pulled down. Next to the switch was a red beacon and a sign read: Manual Shutdown. Authorization, Password and User Name required to activate. At the sight of the sign and switch Sarah suddenly shuddered.

"Are you okay?" Rosey asked as she moved across the room.

"I'm fine...I just got this weird feeling that something bad would happen if that switch was pulled." Sarah explained.

"Wouldn't be too surprising...if that switch was pulled it would shut down the Containment Unit." Rosey explained. "C'mon...I'll take you back upstairs."

"Thanks." Sarah replied. As Rosey led her across the room to the door Sarah took one moment to glance back at the Containment Unit as the room's overhead lights were turned off, even in the gloom the machine almost seemed to glow...and for some reason she knew that if that device was turned off it could mean the end of everything.

* * *

**4:21PM **

* * *

"They're here!" Iain shouted as he quickly walked up the driveway to greet the rest of the Ghostbusters who had been living within the former asylum.

"Excellent..." Egon approved. A few moments later the Ecto-UK passed through the large iron gates and made it's way up the driveway towards the entrance of the building, once it had reached the entrance it slowed to a halt and it's engine was shut off. A moment later Tommy climbed out, followed by Dr. Peter Venkman. A few moments later Eric climbed out of the driver's seat and the four other members of the West Coast Ghostbusters climbed out of the back of the vehicle, each one carrying a piece of luggage.

"Spengs!" Peter greeted. "Long time no see...you really need to stop by Venice Beach one of these days and pick up a tan." Peter shook hands with his fellow New York Ghostbuster.

"The risk of skin cancer eradicates my wishes to gain a 'tan'." Egon replied and then both of them shared a hearty laugh.

"Always reading safety over enjoyment." Peter replied with a grin.

"While yes...I have allowed myself to be introduced to the world in general more over the previous years...it never hurts to keep them in mind. How was the flight?" Egon asked.

"Tiring...not much sleep and a waitress who kept coming onto me." Peter reported, prompting a raised eyebrow and a bemused smirk from Egon.

"Really?" Egon asked.

"It's actually true Professor Spengler...every word." Joey replied, however in spite of better judgment both he and Robert burst out into laughter again.

"Iain...it's good to see you and your guys again! I'll enjoy seeing how you've set up this night shift..." Peter began.

Vincent Belmont entered the room and poured hot water into his teacup. He was busy looking at a couple of copied pages of the book of Gozer, and was completely oblivious to the new people standing in the lobby.

"SPOOKY!" Peter cried, sounding like a gleeful little toddler. He spread his arms wide, as if expecting a hug.

Vincent's head snapped up with a start, and he fumbled the glass pot, shattering it on the floor, and turning his head toward the group, his facial features twisted with horror. His horror quickly turned to fury as his eyebrows furrowed and he glared at Peter. The only movement in the room that complimented the awkward silence was the twitching of Vincent's upper lip.

"You…" Vincent hissed, pointing an accusing finger at Peter.

"Yeah...good to see you Vincent..." Peter added. "Could we dump our stuff before we continue the introductions?" Peter asked.

Everyone around Peter watched in stunned silence for a moment, and Ben JR finally realized what Egon had mentioned earlier in the email.

"Sure..." Tommy replied to break the silence, "I'll drive the heavier stuff around the back in the van...just ask one of the guys where the VIP suite is..."

He then climbed into the Ecto-UK and drove the vehicle round the back of the building as the welcoming party and West Coast franchise members entered GBUK HQ.

* * *

**4:35PM **

* * *

Once the West Coast team had dropped off their luggage on the top floor, they all reconvened in the reception area.

"Nice place...kinda cozy...but nothing like home." Peter commented as he led his team's representatives down the staircase. They were now dressed in their uniforms, the regular West Coast members sporting the traditional khaki uniforms, with the exception of having neon-orange logos, and Peter dressed in his famous brown with dark blue trim uniform.

"It's not much...we call it home." Tommy replied. "Dr. Venkman..."

"Peter...please...Egon...what's with all the formality?" Peter asked. Egon simply gave a slight shrug.

"I believe it is called "hero worship," Dr. Venkman…" Vincent chided as he was once again engrossed in the strange diagram that he had been staring at all day.

"Okay, sorry...Peter...I'd like you to meet our team...Eric you already know...as well as Iain Bennett...our Demonologist...and Ben King...our spirit photographer. I'd like you meet the newer addition to the team, Roger Kennedy, who is also our accountant. With the addition of the Graveyard Shift division we have Vincent Belmont...division leader and our resident magician and occult expert if you weren't aware..."

"We've known Spooky-poo for a long time, Tommy-boy…no intros needed here…" Peter chuckled, as he saw Vincent's hand reach toward the front pocket of his own coat. Jill Valentine touched Vincent on the shoulder. Vincent's hand quivered for a moment, and then retracted. Vincent just sighed.

"Peter, MUST you provoke him?" Egon groaned.

"Yes…" Peter replied, grinning at Vincent.

After a brief moment, Tommy continued.

"Adam Bestler...Roger Johnson and Leon Vega...our lycanthrope expert." Tommy then indicated a small group of people wearing blue jump suits that sported the nametag: TRAINEE. "These are our civilian staff...Rosey Collins...Jill Valentine...Ben King JR..."

"Junior? Ben, you old dog, you!" Peter raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"...and Molly Ann. They're currently working as reserve Ghostbusters." Tommy explained.

"I see...nice line-up..." Peter approved. "Well...here's the members of the West Coast which it was decided to bring on this little expedition...I'd like to introduce Dr. Fritz Baugh...resident genius...Robert Griffiths...our engineer...Joey Williams...the CEO and Dr. Jeff Nash...our occult expert."

"Now that we've had the formal introductions...would it be possible if we could see the book?" Fritz Baugh asked.

"Of course." Egon replied. He led the team into Iain's lab where the book was laid out beside piles of notes and translations. "We've worked through something like two thirds of the book so far...however it hasn't been easy."

"I bet." Peter agreed as he studied the piles of hand-written papers.

"The book is the diary of a Sumerian magus who first "discovered" Gozer. The book is everything the madman learned about Gozer, and it is also a grimoire of his spells, and strange funeral rites, and something else that troubles me. We should publish an abridged copy for the GBI library, but pray that this never falls into a layman's hands." Vincent explained.

"What specifics have you found so far?" Fritz asked after studying some of the note making.

"Well, my fear is the spell I've found in here. It is a summoning spell. It acts as a beacon to the entity, drawing it across the stars to Earth. Now that we have the book, there is no fear of the spell being used to directly summon Gozer…but…" Vincent trailed off in thought.

"But what, Vince?" Fritz asked, looking at the page Vincent had been studying.

"…this spell isn't what worries me. What worries me is that Vinz Clortho, and the Zuul, were sent by Volguus originally to scout out worlds for its consumption…I…" Vincent trailed off again, "…perhaps, gentlemen, you should just see it for yourself."

"Let's see what you have so far…" Fritz asked, eager to see the manuscript. He took it from the table, and read aloud as he paced the room. All eyes watched…

_**2004, Anno Domini.**_

_The following passages are a rough translation of the text discovered on the Chronicles of Gozer, in the year of our Lord, two-thousand and four. These beginning passages were translated by myself, and later subjected to revision by Dr. Egon Spengler. I know not lies missing amongst the text, nor do I wish to know the blasphemies written within, but we need information. Information will be the key to our victory, yet in it may lie our doom. For if we rely fully on the ravings of a mentally unfit magus of ancient Sumeria, we might yet share his fate. _

_~Vincent Abraham Belmont, Ph.D., M.D.,, etc.,etc._

_**Whenever you will to divine through the means of those who know all, and call them forth from the outside -, you must know well the seasons, and the times in which the heavenly bodies are in place to enhance the flow of the endless space. One must observe the cycles of the sun and the moon, and the rising of the constellations...**_

_It is here that a star chart and list of invocations are listed. For the safety of those who read this, I have omitted the incantations and diagrams.~ _

_-: "Outside" may refer to "outside our normal space-time continuum," may also refer to the spirit world, or some pocket dimension. ~ _

_**Mighty Zuul will rise to your incantations, and knowledge will be imparted unto you on completion of the incantations, when Sol has entered the firey house of Leo, and the hour of Lammas is upon you. **_

_Incantations for other beings are listed, but again omitted for safety.~ _

_The next section is a bit of diary from the magus, though I am unclear on the dates, as the Sumer calendar is much still a mystery. ~V. Belmont _

_**Mighty Zuul, retainer of the formless one, and keeper of the great gate, has revealed everything unto me. All of the secrets of the power of the universe has been revealed unto her faithful servant. Mighty Zuul will reveal more unto me, if I am faithful, and give unto- her the breath of life-. **_

_-: Or "Into," both make strangely enough sense.  
-: One might say "souls," as one of the incantations can supposedly remove a soul from a living subject. _

_**(New date)  
Mighty Zuul tells me of her consort, the warrior king, Vinz Clortho, custodian of the silver key. He too, awaits the great awakening. I will be mighty Zuul's tool in this great endeavor. They will bring great Volguus Zildrohar.  
(Missing text) **_

_It was here that Dr. Spengler had joined me and oversaw my translation.  
~ _

_**Beyond the constellations, and beyond the sphere of time the formless one awaits. Over countless aeons has he travelled the cosmos. He has consumed countless worlds, feeding of the souls that inhabit it. The formless one is an endless void, and its hunger cannot be sated. It is Volguus Zildrohar, the Gozerian, the all-consuming fire and destroyer; great traveller from beyond. **_

_**The formless one travelled the great expanse beyond the void for aeons, and danced beneath the feet of the great boundless Daemon Sultan, whose name no lips may speak aloud. Volguus Zildrohar danced to the madness of the idiot god, gnawing hungrily in unlighted chambers beyond time amidst the muffled, maddening beating of vile drums and the monotonous whine of accursed flutes. Beyond the stars it hungered. Beyond the void it sought sustenance. **_

_**Volguus Zildrohar pierced the great veil and entered man's time and space, from the great burning, and many stars were torn asunder. The great burning hunger was not sated. **_

_**The great living fire, C'tug'ha-, source of all creation and destruction, battled the formless one. The great Volguus battled C'tug'ha, and their arms swept the stars from the sky. C'tug'ha was cast down, and retreated unto the void, and Volguus remained at the sundering. The fires of C'tug'ha had blinded Volguus, and the great formless one was hexed to wander the outer void for aeons. **_

_-:Two beings worshipped as gods of fire and destruction may fit this strange name; "Cthuga, the living fire, mentioned in a few tomes I have seen, or "Chat'tur'gha", a great firey crustacean horror, that feeds on the blood and the bones of the unbelievers...not that I see such THINGS as divine providence...  
~ _

_**Great Volguus came upon the heavenly bodies, and to the great belt of the warrior god. The formless one harvested the souls there and grew strong. It consumed the living to feed its endless hunger, yet still it could not be filled. **_

_It is here that I learned that Gozer the "traveller" may have spent its years consuming the Ectospheres of planets, making them bereft of life, and uninhabitable. For what blasphemous purpose it hungers for the breath of life, I do not know. I can only guess that this vile creature has no "breath of life" of its own. ~ _

_**Great Volguus wandered still the great expanse between the stars, and its hunger grew. It conquered the sting of the great scorpion, and came upon a world in war. The Vuldronaii sought reform in their conflicting world. Its great warriors drew together, wielding their weapons of brilliant flame, and lit up the skies of their world. Great Volguus was delighted in its chaos. The great chaos and burning was sweet honey to its lips. Its hunger grew. No longer content with consuming, great Volguus sought to savour the breath of life, with its flickering and waning, as a silent flame in the eternal darkness of the void. Great Volguus drew strength from the flame, and pondered upon it. **_

_From here and beyond, Dr. Spengler has taken over the immediate translation, and I have added in my own thoughts and addendum.~ _

_**Great Volguus brought his countenance upon the world, a world in which the gods have died, and brought about the great Rectification. **_

_**"Choose!" called great Volguus Zildrohar. **_

_**The people called upon great Volguus, and he came in the form of the mammoth beast, Torb. Torb consumed the breath of the planet for many life cycles, and the formless one grew fat, yet it was not content. **_

_Much to my astonishment, I have seen primitive sketches of these civilizations, and of this "Torb." The next ten pages are the rites of summoning to this creature known as the Torb. It seems that one can summon such entities absorbed by Gozer, by ripping a fraction of its essence, and binding it to the physical plane. All such rituals have been both redacted, and stored safely away for obvious reasons.~ _

_**Volguus travelled between the expanse again, and fought the great crawling chaos, Neer'latt'hotp- beneath the claws of the great crab. Neer'latt'hotp tore from Great Volguus his eyes, and was banished to wander the great expanse in the belly of the great crab for many aeons after. **_

_-: I think this name might refer to "Nyarlathotep." ~ _

_**Within the belly of the crab, Volguus smelled the sweetness of the flame of chaos. Volguus suckled at the sweet milk of destruction as a baby at its mother's breast. Volguus rested its head upon the great sphere that flew above the skies of the breath of life-. **_

_-: We surmise that this was one of the planet's moons, being described more "poetically" by the author. ~ _

_**The great world had but one god, and that god had two peoples. Meketrex, the holiest one, giver of life, judge of all life, wielder of the flame of divine judgement. The suplicants of Great Meketrex were two peoples. **_

_**The Shubs; makers of great machines, great scholars, and riders of the great dragons of iron and bronze. Many wise men and scholars dreamed dreams, and saw visions, and produced great cities of glass and iron. **_

_**The Zuuls; wielders of the great power, great sorcerers, seers of the future. Meketrex favored the Zuuls, and the Shubs detested them. Their great civil war was sweeter than all of the nectar of the flames of chaos consumed by the formless one. **_

_**Great Meketrex was mighty, but Volguus Zildrohar mightier still. Great and mighty Meketrex and Volguus battled for a cycle of the lunar body battled for dominance, and Volguus emerged the victor. Meketrex was consumed by the great formless one, and Volguus took strength from the feeding. **_

_**Volguus fed upon the flame of chaos, fanned by the war on the sphere below. Volguus came unto the Shubs and the Zuuls wearing the skin of Meketrex. The leaders of the tribes of Shub and the tribe of Zuul came forth. "Choose!" great Volguus commanded. "Chose the way that this world shall end. Choose the destroyer!" **_

_**"How shall we choose?" asked the Zuul. **_

_**"I bid the Shub to choose, and you will gain your reward." said Volguus. **_

_**The Shub, being of wisdom, chose a being that could not be-. The Shub chose the great fiery Sloar. **_

_-: Or, an "imaginary creature"~ _

_This leads me to believe that this people had its own set of mythologies, and this, to them, was an imaginary creature. Why is it, then, that there are instructions on how to summon the beast? Let alone the fact that there is another crude sketch of the blasphemous horror? ~ _

_**The Sloar fed upon the Shubs and the Zuuls for a fortnight, leaving the land barren. **_

_**Volguus took unto itself a servant, the Zuul, chief of the tribe of Zuul. Volguus, having had its sight ripped from it by great Neer'Latt'hotp, could not leave. It sent its messenger, great Zuul, across the great void, to search and spread the words of Volguus Zildrohar. **_

_**Mighty Zuul, keeper of the great gate, came upon the sphere of the godless Sebouillia. Zuul came upon the the great warrior king Vinz Clortho, and the two became one. Proclaiming her a goddess, warrior king Vinz Clortho commanded that the teachings of Zuul be law. The people of the Sebouillia lived by the great teachings of Zuul, and they called out to Great and mighty Volguus Zildrohar. Mighty Zuul, keeper of the gate, and Vinz Clortho, keeper of the silver key, called out to Volguus Zildrohar. Their cries of passion reached out beyond the stars, and called great Volguus to them-. Volguus feasted upon the life of the Sebouillia, and made another servant; great warrior king Vinz Clortho, keeper of the silver key. **_

_-:I'm not sure whether to consider the "Keymaster/Gatekeeper" thing as a sexual reference, as a metaphorical reference, or even both...~ _

_**The lord of the Sebouillia, great Volguus Zildrohar, sent out its servants to other worlds, to seek to spread the teachings, and to bring great Volguus to them. The hunger of great Volguus will not be sated. This is said by great and mighty Zuul, keeper of the great gate, and Vinz Clortho, keeper of the silver key. **_

_**(Missing text) **_

_**Hail and sacrifice to Volguus Zildrohar, destroyer of worlds, all-consuming fire, and bringer of oblivion. Impart unto me your wisdom, Zuul, servant of the destructor. I am your tool in bringing the all-consuming salvation unto all. **_

_**(Summoning diagram omitted) **_

_**Ye, you who dwells within the darkness of the outside, come forth unto (Earth) I entreat you. **_

_**Ye, you who abides beyond the sphere of time, come forth. **_

_**(Incantation omitted) **_

_**Ye, who are the Gate and the way, come forth. Your servant calls you. **_

_**(Incantation omitted) **_

_**Come forth. I speak the words. I break your bonds. Your seal is cast aside. Pass through the door and enter the (Earth), I call to you. **_

_**(Incantation omitted) **_

_~It is here that the authors handwriting becomes slightly marred. It grows difficult to decipher, and I must rely more fully on Dr. Spengler's guesswork. Still, I will translate as best as I can. _

_**4) Beyond the constellations lie our salvation. I have seen it. I have been chosen to call out to it. I possess the knowledge. I possess the power. **_

_**(Line 72: missing script) **_

_**5) Hail and Sacrifice to Volguus Zildrohar, destroyer of worlds, all-consuming flame, and bringer of salvation. It is proclaimed by your holy servant that you require a body. I shall be your body. Use me as your vessel to purify the (Earth) with fire. Consume all of the unworthy, and take the worthy to be with you. **_

_**6) Mighty Zuul has imparted unto me the greatest of all magics. The summoning of great Volguus requires stones of power. To form the gate though which (They from the outside) may enter, you must set up the stones in an elevenfold pattern. **_

_**First, you shall set up the cardinal stones that mark the directions of the four winds that howl through their seasons. (Pattern diagram omitted) The stone of whirling air shall be in the (REDACTED), where the first equinox rises, and shall be graven with the sign of he that bears the waters (A symbol reminiscent of Aquarius is inscribed here) **_

_**The gate of Torrents you cause to beat against the westmost point where Sol dies and the cycle of darkness returns. The stone shall be graven with the sign of the scorpion, whose tail reaches to the stars A symbol reminiscent of Scorpio is inscribed here) **_

_**In the North, beyond the stone of great cold set the stone of Saturn (spacing omitted) and place at equal distances following the stones of Jupiter, Mercury, Mars, Venus, Sol, and Luna. **_

_**In the center of the stones, set the altar to Volguus Zildrohar. From here, will he from beyond time and space emerge. **_

_**The following Incantation and rites have been omitted, so that this atrocity NEVER happen again~ **_

_**(Line:162-165:Missing script) **_

_**"...trace the pentacle of fire..." **_

_(Lines:167-201: These seem to be peculiar burial rites, strange, blasphemous prayers, and even stranger practices. It appears here that now, in his delusions, the author has begun to insert his own ideas into his cult. Gozer has turned from malevolent destroyer, to a messiah that will burn the unbelievers and take his followers to a form of paradise.~ _

_**"...purifying flames shall consume the soul of the sacrifice..."  
"...the blood is the power. I shall need more..." **_

_**(Incantations omitted) **_

_I find the magus' work quite disturbing. The most Dr. Spengler and I can piece together is that this author used blood sacrifices quite frequently. It is our best guess that he chose women as his sacrifices, as the word "sacrifice" is referred to in the feminine case.~ _

_"Zuul" as well is referred to in the feminine case, which leads us to believe that Zuul is definately a female, and explains the exclusively feminine hosts.~ _

Fritz lowered the paper on the table and took off his glasses. He rubbed his forehead and placed the glasses back on.

"So, no one has directly summoned Gozer, but from what I just gathered…Vinz and Zuul can bring it here? If that's the case…"

Egon cut him off. "Then there's nothing we can do at this point except to prepare to stop it from breaching Earth. According to the manuscript, Gozer will be merging its world with our own. We will have to meet it head on…I just don't know where or when that will be. We will just have to wait for…a sign."

"It has told us that the second gate is located on this island and that we are looking at an activation window of within the next week." Vincent explained.

"The fact GBI's big 20 is this week isn't a coincidence I take it?" Peter asked.

"Doubtful...it would appear...based upon the translations so far that the stars need to be in the correct positions for Gozer to come into our world...and it appears that this specific alignment occurs only once every twenty-one years." Egon explained.

"Jeez...this 'stars are right' stuff...I thought we'd had the last of that since the Necronomicon." Peter ran a hand through his hair.

"It would apparently not be the case." Vincent continued. "There's something else...you are no doubt aware that Jeremy has exhibited some...interesting powers?" Vincent asked.

"I assume you mean the ability to summon Terror Dogs and form portals?" Fritz asked.

"Yeah." Iain agreed.

"For some reason, Vinz Clortho has been given full access to his powers...and we believe we know why." Egon explained, opening the floor for explanation.

"There was mention...around..." Vincent paused to check his notes. "Around…6000, BC of a race known as the Hyksos...now...we did some checking and it seems that between that time and now the name has gone through some corruption known to have occurred when America started to appear as the continent it is today...and in that time Hyksos was corrupted to..."

"Hicks." Joey finished. Everyone looked straight at Joey. "What? It's always like that in the movies."

"Quite." Egon replied. "It would seem that Hicks is the descendant of what was a following of Gozer worshippers."

"It would go to explain why he had this type of power in Jeremy's body then in Louis Tully's." Fritz agreed. "The hypothesis fits."

"Anything else we should know about?" Jeff asked.

"Nothing that's particularly noteworthy at present...but we'll let everyone know if anything important surfaces." Egon added.

"Right..." Peter agreed.

"Would it be possible if we could be briefed on what else has happened so far?" Fritz asked.

"Sure...just follow us to the 'briefing room'." Ben King Sr. replied as he chuckled slightly.

"What's so funny?" Robert asked.

* * *

**5:19PM **

* * *

"...Until Ms. Jones had arrived all we had to work with was the book, however after conducting a few tests on her we have determined that she is the next host of the Gate Keeper." Iain explained.

"Why isn't Zuul in control of her though? Last time she was around she was pretty much ready to go at it with a table lamp if I said that was the Key Master...why isn't she in control this time around?" Peter asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine, and that is saying something." Vincent replied.

"We're currently theorizing that how powerful a host is determines how much power the essence has...plus there's also the possibility of mental ability...presently we're theorizing that Sarah has an extremely strong mental control...and has managed to suppress Zuul into a dormant state...however with Jeremy being a descendant of a previous set of followers of Gozer has provided Vinz with a link to a possible previous host and there-in giving him access to a new selection of old powers... but it is all simply speculation through knowledge of previous and recently-discovered information." Egon explained.

"Understood." Fritz replied as he made some notes of his own. "I don't suppose you'd require another person to help translate?" He asked.

"If it gets the process finished in less time then we can use whatever help we can get. How good is your Latin?" Vincent replied.

"Passing…" Fritz replied.

"Beautiful, that will mean that I don't have to do it." Vincent chuckled.

"What do you have so far which we can use to find Jeremy?" Joey asked.

"Well...so far we've had a news report of him attacking a group of policemen and using his portal power to zap himself out of Penkridge...by the time we knew there wouldn't be much point going out there for readings." Iain replied.

"There's something very weird about them...like when Zuul resurfaced for a moment...there was an incredible level of power being let out...but only registered for a short time before it degraded."

"I guess as that's out of the question...you've brought a copy of Jeremy's biorhythms?" Adam asked.

"Yes...we've brought eight PKE Meters...four of which have been programmed to track Jeremy."

Vincent interjected. "My contacts have seen him snooping around Stonehenge…but he'd gone long before anyone could tell me about it."

"Excellent...it means that four of the group can split up and cover the four corners of whichever town you're searching." Egon commented.

"That'd probably be a bit more difficult if you were searching London." Ben replied.

"Indeed...however I strongly suggest against your team doing anything too debilitating today due to the likely event of jet lag, Peter." Egon suggested.

"'Bout time someone suggested sleep...I've been waiting to get some since we got on the plane." Peter replied with a grin.

"But...it's only the afternoon." Adam replied in slight surprise.

"Such a thing as time has never been known to control Peter's sleeping habits." Egon replied with a wry grin as he cleaned his glasses. "For now I suggest for everyone to relax...and possible get some extra sleep in...we've got a lot to do tomorrow if we're to have several groups of Ghostbusters going out to find Jeremy." With that said the group of civilian staff members and Ghostbusters broke up and went their separate ways.

"I would like to examine the book in more detail at some point...I also wouldn't mind seeing your armoury if there is the chance." Fritz asked as he and Iain left the room.

"Sure." Iain replied. "Maybe you can give us a few pointers on new equipment design."

* * *

**5:23PM **

* * *

"Well Egon...on a scale of one to ten...how do you rate the British boys in blue?" Peter asked as they watched the group leave the building's kitchen.

"I'd say they have coped admirably with the previous events they've had to deal with...such as the loss of their original HQ and the following court case." Egon replied. "Though maybe you should ask them yourself?" Egon asked as he looked at his former fellow New York Ghostbuster.

"C'mon Spengs...you know I don't do that...get in the younger crowd stuff...hell knows I have enough of a time not mortally embarrassing Oscar in front of his friends." Peter replied.

"How are the family?" Egon asked as they exited the kitchen.

"They're hanging in well...that weird event a few months back with that Oscar/Vigo from another reality hasn't affected things too much...though I'm sure Oscar's friends were treating him with a ten foot pole for the next few weeks after that."

"Indeed." Egon replied with an amused smile.

"And how are things in the Spengler neck of the woods?" Peter asked as they passed through the reception area on the way to Iain's lab.

"Just fine from what I've heard...though the twins continue to make life at the Firehouse less then dull." Egon replied.

"Yep...sounds like the twins to me alright." Peter agreed. Eventually they entered the lab and Peter was able to get a better view of the book. "So this is the thing which has been causing so much ruckus? Doesn't look any older then the 'Codex." Peter gestured at the offending book.

"While the exterior does bare similar signs of degradation as that of the Codex of Saint Theophilus...this book is immensely older and predates the 'Codex by more than a few hundred years." Egon explained. "It is a book of immense power if it were to fall into the wrong hands."

"Isn't most stuff that ends up in our hands one way or another?" Peter asked.

"Unfortunately, that seems to be a growing trend." Egon mused.

"Yeah," Peter said with a yawn, "…yet another reason we keep the Manhattan wiz-kids around. All of the "evil world destroying" stuff can be safely locked away in 'ol "Vault 51."

"Wouldn't you rather have these things locked away safely from supernatural intrusion as well?" Egon asked.

"Like I said, Spengie…if Vinny and his boys are "wizards," we'll just let them handle all of the "wizard toys" that might be bad for the existence of humanity if some new depressed nut job who wants to destroy the world wants to get their hands on it. We already gave them the Necronomicon…what's one more freakish Book of Nastiness?"

Egon only sighed.

* * *

To Be Continued

* * *

042


	9. June 6, 2004 Part 1

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge,

and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

* * *

_There was loud Eighties music playing...his whole party was listening to "Disco Inferno." All of his guests were picking at his makeshift snack table. No one was really even eating the smoked salmon. Why? It was REAL Nova Scotia smoked salmon. It cost him only $14.12 after tax...$10.00 less than the name brand! _

_The door bell rang, and he stopped dancing with the bubbly blonde in front of him. He opened the door to a rather gangly looking man and his squat wife. "Ted! Annette! Hi! Glad you could come! How you doing? Give me your coats. Everybody, this is Ted and Annette Fleming. Ted has a small carpet-cleaning business in receivership, and that's drawing a salary from a deferred bonus from two years ago. They've got fifteen thousand left on the house at 8%; so they're okay!" _

_He opened the door to the closet and tossed the Flemmings' coats onto his bed..."So, does anybody want to play Parcheesi?" _

_Something growled very, very loudly. And very, very angrily. It sounded like a lion, but that was a bit ridiculous...c'mon; lions in an apartment complex? _

_"Okay! Who brought the dog?" he asked. _

_Suddenly, the door to the bedroom exploded, showering wood and plaster board all over the assembled guests. Something large, evil looking, and horrible flew through the air and landed on the buffet table, crushing it beneath its enormous bulk. It looked like the horrific offspring of a gargoyle and a Doberman Pinscher, It was a hairless horror; horned, and walking on four legs. _

_He screamed and ran, opening the apartment door and closing it behind him. He wanted as much distance from this monstrosity as possible. He ran down the corridor, quickening his pace as he heard, and saw the door to his apartment explode. The monster hit the hallway wall, stunned momentarily, quickly shaking off its stupor. _

_He quickly pressed the button repeatedly to call the elevator to the 22nd floor. "Faster," he silently pleaded, "faster!" Mrs. Blum, the elderly lady next door, opened her door with an oft repeated scold on her lips and looked out after hearing the noise. She turned and froze. As she saw the monster she shrieked; the elevator doors opened and the terrified fugitive darted in; Mrs. Blum darted back into her apartment, slamming the door. _

_"OhGodit'safterme..." _

_He burst out of the entrance to 550 Central Park West, scaring a female tenant and the doorman. _

_"Help! There's a bear loose in my apartment! Help, help! Help!" He yelled, running across Central Park West and causing several cars to brake hard. He then tumbled over the wall bordering with the park. _

_"A bear in his apartment?" The doorman asked in surprise. Suddenly the monster charged through the foyer of the building, knocking over the door man and causing a couple to jump out of the way. As it ran across the street it caused a blue station wagon and a checker cab to break hard and swerve out of the way. _

_He ran through the darkened park until he saw the lights of "Tavern on the Green." _

_"I'm going to bring this up at the next tenant's meeting," he nervously muttered to himself, "There's not supposed to be any pets in the building." He ran up to one of the large windows, and began to bang on it. He then ran around to a glass door, but found it locked. _

_"There's gotta be in a way in." He crashed into some metal lawn furniture, then quickly got up and banged on the window, causing all of the people in the restaurant to look at him with some mild distaste. _

_"Somebody let me in!" He banged wildly. _

_He then sensed something behind him. He turned around slowly as a single bead of sweat curled off his brow and trickled to the end of his nose. Turned. There it was...prowling up on him, like a tiger, ready to pounce on its kill. _

_"Nice doggie. Cute little pooch. Maybe I got a Milk-Bone..." _

_He checked his pockets. Nothing. The monster let loose with a terrible guttural roar, a sound that chilled him to the very marrow of his bones. He screamed as he slid down the glass... _

* * *

**June 6, 2004  
Two Days Until the End of the World  
New York, New York; 1:14 AM **

* * *

Twenty-one years later, Louis Bartholomew Tully, CPA, and Chief Financial Officer of Ghostbusters International, awoke screaming at the memory. "Just...just a dream..." he said faintly, his senses coming back to him. He looked around, gazing into the darkness of his room, and feeling his soaking silk bedsheets. He got up and turned the light on to his bathroom. He splashed some cold water on his face...and jumped about a foot into the air as the telephone broke the silence.

He checked the caller ID: _**555-1013 Venkman, Dr. Peter**_...the number to Peter's apartment in the city. _"I thought he was still in Los Angeles..."_ Louis thought, his first idea being that Venkman was bugging him with GBI business in the middle of the night, and not for the first time, either. _"Unless..." _he thought, and couldn't stop his heart jumping at the thought...

"Hello, Louis Tully, how may I help you?"

_"Louis? I'm sorry to be calling so late, but..._

_It's her..._ Louis thought excitedly. _Dana... _

"Oh, no problem, Dana...I...um...wasn't sleeping too well anyway..."

There was a pause at the other end.

_"You either? Louis...I don't know.I hope you don't think I'm crazy...but it's been years since this happened. And with Peter in LA I didn't know who else to talk too except you, because..." _

"I'm here for you Dana. I always will be you know that."

_"I had...I dreamed about Zuul tonight." _

Louis dropped the phone. He scrambled to pick it up hurredly. "I'm sorry Dana, it's just...I had a dream about being chased by the Terror Dogs too..."

_"Oh God..."_ she breathed. _"Maybe it's nothing, but maybe it means something..." _

"I don't know...maybe we should talk to Ray and Winston tomorrow..." Louis advised. "I'd say Doctor Spengler would be a better person to talk to but he's in England right now so Ray or Winston or even Doctor Jackson would be our best bet on that..."

_"Yeah. I think...I think that would be a good idea. It may be nothing, but...well, what if it isn't?"_ Dana breathed hard, as if she were on the brink of tears. _"I'm sorry to bother you...but in a lot of ways this is something Peter and the rest will never understand the way you do-because it happened to us, not them." _

"I know..."

_"I gotta go now, Louis...I need to call Peter in England...I just need to hear his voice right now."_ And with that, she hung up abruptly.

_Peter...it's always Peter..._ he thought to himself ruefully as he sat back down on his bed. He sat in silent rage fueled by his feelings of jealousy. He had loved Dana Barrett from the moment they'd met. She was graceful, and refined, and intelligent...and of course, so achingly beautiful; But she was not to be his. The man who hunted ghosts...he swept her off her feet. And no one, not the Czechoslovakian models Louis dated in his "fifteen minutes of fame," could take the edge off of that. Then, Peter Venkman made his error. Dana left him. And now, she could fall into the arms...

...of violinist Andre Wallance.

Louis remembered their wedding with agony...the bittersweet mix of joy for her and sadness for himself when Dana announced her pregnancy...and he genuinely felt sorrow for her when Andre left her shortly afterward. _How could a man do that to such a sweet child like Oscar?_ And he shook his head thinking about Oscar...the "baby" who was now sixteen years old, practically a man. _He's a good kid,_ Louis had to admit, _Even though his music gives me a headache..."_

There was another woman who'd been part of his world...but hindsight made it more and more obvious there was no real love there; Certainly not from her. And deep down, he knew he never loved Janine Melnitz, either-there was just the unspoken bond of a common experience: pining away for the higher creatures they could never have.

_Except Janine won in the end..._ he reminded himself. _She got what she wanted...the happy ending...the marriage to Doctor Spengler...the two kids. And they're absolutely adorable...even if they hate my guts with a passion; And what do I have? Faded memories of a moment of glory...a six-figure stock portfolio. And a life that screams at me in it's savage emptiness._

* * *

**Time - Unknown. Place -Unknown **

* * *

Sarah found herself once again in the large, deserted wasteland with a violet-hued sky that had been invading her dreams for the previous week. All around her lay the ruins of some immense and colossal war...but there was something different...something wrong.

She walked around aimlessly, staring at the piles of rubble and eventually caught herself again with a sharp breath of air...leaning to one side in the distance, as if it were a parody of the famous Leaning Tower of Pisa, was the scarred, pitted and mangled form of the clock tower more passionately known as "Big Ben," It's white frosted glass clock faces were cracked, and missing panes.

All around her stood the collapsing and degraded ruins of London. The dry Thames in front of her carried the ruins of Westminster Bridge, dust was carried up and sent blowing down from the tangled wreckage of the Millennium Wheel towards her...her home...England. It had been reduced to a smoking waste, and she was the last person alive...

Or so she thought...

She turned around, and there he was the man, Jeremy...he stared at her with a look which made her feel uncomfortable; VERY uncomfortable.

"Now it is the time to join the Gate Keeper and the Key Master." He replied in a voice which sounded much crueller then the one he had spoken with at the dojo.

"No...get away from me!" She hissed and ran.

* * *

**8:51AM (England)**

* * *

"No!" She sat upright with a start and then looked around. She could make out the furniture in the morning light. She was back at the HQ building of the Ghostbusters UK. She shook her head, realizing that it was simply a nightmare and climbed out of bed. She grabbed a set of clothes from her bag and made her way to the women's' showers on the same floor.

Once she was showered and dressed, she made her way down to the kitchen where she found several of both the British and American Ghostbusters debating different topics over breakfast.

"It HAS to be that, Fritz, otherwise we'd be dealing with a whole mess of new problems!" she heard from the voice of Dr. Vincent Belmont, who was in a very intense discussion with Dr. Fritz Baugh. She glanced over in that direction, and saw Vincent standing up, waving around a teacup menacingly, while Fritz flopped his left arm down on his paperwork in frustration, pointing at a spot on a map of England.

"Oh, Vincent" Jill had replied, "there's no need to get all upset over..."

Sarah managed to snag a bowl, spoon and a bottle of milk between the people moving about in the room...she was then able to snag a box of decidedly healthy breakfast food and made her way over to the breakfast/lunch/dinner/conference table and sat down next to the man she'd met the previous evening known as Dr. Jeff Nash.

"Morning." He greeted as he studied a copy of the _Daily Telegraph_between bites of breakfast.

"Morning." She greeted in return. She couldn't tell if he'd been up all night, or if he naturally had a pale complexion. Whatever the case he looked like he had had little sleep the previous night. Across the table from her, Iain Bennett, Egon Spengler and Peter Venkman debated what they'd need in order to start searching for the missing Ghostbuster. For several minutes this conversation continued until Egon broke subject in order to inform her of something.

"We would like to perform some more tests on you, Ms. Jones if you wouldn't mind." He asked.

"No." She replied before eating a bite of weetabix. "Just let me know when you need me." She asked.

"We will." Egon replied, he then returned to the discussion he had been taking part in with the Ghostbuster either side of him.

* * *

**9:19AM (England)**

* * *

"Alright, listen up," Vincent began as he took a moment to clear his throat. "We will be sending out a team of six Ghostbusters...three from the West Coast Ghostbusters...two from Ghostbusters UK and you...Dr. Venkman...are to lead them." Vincent turned to face Eric Rose who stood opposite him across the 'war room' table. The 'war room' being the nickname which the team had given to the RAF operations room set up near the reception room, which sported a large under-lit table which maps could be placed on for planning tactics. Vincent extracted a chart which showed several circles, the closer to the centre of London the smaller the circle became until a spot was set above the very centre of the city. "Eric, will you be able to take one of the smaller teams around London?"

"I should be able to...but I'll grab the A-Z from the garage anyway."

"Understood...Mr. Griffiths." Robert looked at Vincent. "How good is your knowledge of London?"

"I can get by." The blond haired man replied.

"Okay...with Dr. Venkman and Dr. Baugh's blessings, and with Dr. Williams' permission I will be assigning you to help lead him around this point of London." Vincent indicated one third of the centre of the city. "Peter...you will be accompanied by Iain and you will patrol this area." He indicated a second third. "And finally...Adam and Eric...you will patrol this third area...here." He indicated the final third. "You are to make your way to the central point, and if you don't receive any readings to indicate where Mr. Hicks may be, then you are to radio back to HQ and then return in the Ecto-GS...are we all clear on this?" There was a chorus of 'yes's and 'yeah's and then the search teams left the room in the direction of the garage.

"Iain," Peter asked as he walked with Iain out of the war room, "is it just me, or is Spooky a little edgy?"

Iain only shrugged.

* * *

**9:35AM (England)**

* * *

"...if nothing comes up in London they'll move on to Wycombe...Hazlemere and Slough. Then tomorrow it's...Reading...Amersham..." Ben King Sr replied as he read off the checklist. "However...we're gonna try Penkridge again tomorrow as well and hopefully hit some of the large towns down south tomorrow...but we only have three days to cover the whole frigging island." He added.

"We can hope the 'scanner' picks up his signature...we've programmed in both the PKE data Egon collected from 1983 and the biorhythm data...but either the two signatures have merged, or he's good at hiding his signature."

"It all depends what new power he has, now that he seems to be in the body of a Gozer cult descendent...plus my equipment wasn't as sophisticated in 1983-the readings may be erroneous. We can only hope that the team in London finds him and that he hasn't caused any injury." Egon agreed.

"Well...based on E.C.T.O. Canada's report, he seems to be fond of property damage but not causing injury to people." Tommy added as he studied some topographical charts displaying the country's lay lines.

"Any chance it might be Jeremy inside that thing, still fighting it?" Robert asked.

"Possible." Egon replied. "But that would become less of a factor as time goes by..."

"Whatever happens though..." Ben finished. "We have two days to try and prevent Jeremy from opening the portal..."

* * *

**10:53PM (England)**  
**London **

* * *

"Search teams report...have you got anything? Over." Iain asked into his hand-held radio.

_"Search team Alpha...nothing to report."_ Robert's voice replied.

_"Search team Delta...no sighting."_ Eric reported.

"Keep on your toes guys...radio in if you see anything even remotely paranormal.

_"Bloody duh..."_ Robert replied.

_"Copy that, Beta." _Eric responded, and the radio fell silent once more. With the communication over for the moment Iain, resumed talking with Peter.

"Anyway...you were saying?" Iain asked as they walked down the street. Each of them wore their respective jumpsuits and a black leather jacket with the No-Ghost logo on the right arm. Both were wearing fully charged Proton Packs.

"Yeah...well...I've been talking to Spengs about how well GBUK has been doing since you guys opened shop three years ago...and I'm gonna try for that franchise in Paris again." Peter explained as they walked down past the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square close to the centre of London, attracting some odd stares as they went. Iain studied his PKE Meter while Venkman's, which was programmed to Jeremy's biorhythm, was clipped to his field belt.

"Yeah? I thought the Paris idea would've worked after you saved the Eiffel Tower from blowing up." Iain asked.

"Sometimes things don't work out as well as you plan, the French are just...you know, so "FRENCH." Whatever happened before...I'm gonna get some plans scheduled with the French President...see if we can eventually get a Paris franchise off the ground." Peter explained.

"You do realise what they called the movie over there?" Iain asked with a raised eyebrow.

"SOS Fantames...or some crap like that...we can work the name if the talks go well." Peter replied flippantly.

"It wouldn't hurt to have someone watch over the 'tower...just in case." Iain agreed.

Suddenly his meter began to beep wildly.

"Jeremy?" Peter asked, he then studied his meter but it gave him a set of readings he couldn't definitely match with the biorhythm.

"Maybe...even if it isn't him...it's something with a hell of a lot of PKE." Iain replied as he unclipped the radio from his belt. "Search Teams Alpha and Delta...this is Beta...we're registering a large build up of PKE on our Meter."

_"Roger...we've got it too."_ Robert replied.

_"We're heading to the source...meet you in about five minutes, over." _Eric reported.

"Roger that guys...see you in five." Iain replied as he clipped the radio back onto his belt and both he and Peter took off in the direction of the PKE energy source.

"You'd think they'd make these streets a little bit wider." Peter asked as they both ran through a series of crowded side streets through the centre of London. In the distance, the clock tower famously known as 'Big Ben' rose above the rooftops.

"You should see some of the passages we had to cover in the East End of town." Iain shouted back as the PKE Meter told them to take a left where they nearly crashed into Eric and Adam.

"Woah!" Adam replied as they ground to a halt. "Where to?" He asked.

"That way." Eric directed and they charged off towards the centre of the city where they found Robert and Joey standing on a street corner consulting their PKE Meter.

"Guys...what are you standing there for?" Adam asked.

"We're trying to find the source of the signal...we should be right on top of it." Joey indicated the PKE Meter. Iain checked his own.

"Mine matches yours." He agreed.

"Guys...maybe you should look up." Peter replied, they turned to look at him and he was gazing at the rooftops above them. They followed his gaze and saw what had made him go a bit pale in the face.

"You've got to be shitting me." Iain swore.

Perched on the rooftop was Jeremy Hicks...his eyes seemed to be glowing bright red behind his glasses and he looked monumentally pissed off. His hair flowed wildly, and snakelike, making him seem much like one of the snake-haired Gorgons of Greek myth. His form seemed to have grown as he arched his back, pointing an accusing finger at the Ghostbusters.

"I cam smell her all over you...heathen...but you shall not have Zuul...she is for one being alone... me!" Jeremy then jumped off of the roof as the six Ghostbusters extracted their Proton Guns.

"Fire at will guys!" Peter shouted and they released the streams of proton energy from their Proton Packs on the possessed form of Jeremy, who quickly vanished through a portal, causing the beams to smash into the building.

"CEASE FIRE!" Iain shouted, and the attack was halted.

"No fair...just being able to portal in and out like that," Eric complained.

"Maybe it's a good thing...do we know we can hit him with the beams and not hurt him?" Robert asked.

"Well...no." Peter replied innocently.

"Okay..." Eric replied.

"What do we do then?" Adam asked as smoking debris tumbled to the street.

"Peter...what's the frequency for knocking a human out?" Joey asked.

"Erm...I can't remember...why?" Peter asked.

"We could try sap his power so he can't teleport out when we're gonna hit him...then, once he's drained, we can then tie him up...or something." Joey explained.

"Sounds like a plan." Peter agreed. "...didn't Egon program in that frequency to these things anyway?" Peter asked.

"Oh yeah." Joey shrugged with a lopsided grin. "That is, if all of our Proton Packs are designed after those models. Okay...everyone...set your beams to the second setting...that should knock him out."

There was a loud "whooshing" sound and Jeremy stepped out of a portal behind them.

"Fire!" Robert yelled, and they all turned and fired. For several moments that seemed to drag on for minutes, they held Jeremy within the confinement of the beams but he managed to summon up enough energy to teleport out again. He disappeared in a flash. The Ghostbusters shut off their beams and looked around.

"This guy's a sneaky bastard." Iain swore.

"He's a lot more clear-minded then when he was in Louis' body...he was downright spaced out in '83." Peter agreed.

"Guys...I'm still picking up a large concentration of PKE...I think he's..." Eric was cut off as a portal opened behind him, Jeremy snatched the gun from his hand and aimed it at Peter. Jeremy shot a proton stream at Peter and then at Iain, knocking them both to the ground.

"Fucker." Robert swore and fired, managing to catch Eric in the beam after Jeremy pushed him in harm's way.

"Oh shit...sorry Eric." Robert quickly disengaged his beam. A moment later, a loud "whoosh" could be heard behind him, and he was picked up and then sent flying onto the roof of a nearby car. Jeremy turned and glared at Joey and Adam, the sole standing Ghostbusters.

"Do not try to stop my master, Ghostbusters." Jeremy spoke. "You will not be so fortunate this time." He then looked up in a direction behind him and sniffed the air. "Zuul awaits." He then opened one last portal, walked through it and both he and the portal vanished.

"Oww..." Robert moaned and both Joey and Adam ran over to help the Morcombe-born Ghostbuster off of the now dented roof. Nearby Peter, Iain and Eric were beginning to stir. "Did we bag him?" Eric asked.

"No...we lost him...what could two Ghostbusters do that six couldn't?" Adam asked.

"I'll tell you what...that Vinz guy is a real wanker when he's in Jeremy's body." Robert managed to crack a smile.

"Ow...too right." Iain agreed as he picked himself up, and then helped Peter up from the roadway. All around people were staring at the Ghostbusters after the short battle with the Key Master. A police officer thought of approaching them, but thought better of it after seeing the mess.

"We'd better head back to the van and report this to HQ...they're gonna want to hear this." Eric spoke as he hooked his Proton Gun onto his pack.

"Definitely..." Iain agreed as they began to walk back to where they'd parked the Ecto-GS.

* * *

**10:56AM (England)**

* * *

Ben King Sr studied his architectural book and compared notes with the set of plans he'd been sent from New York. He was just about to give up when he turned a page and did a double take. He searched around the littered desk top and eventually found what he was looking for; a set of architectural details for the stone statues of the Terror Dogs.

"Dammit...of course!" He replied and then slid his chair across to the phone on another desk. The book page displayed two photos, the first was of an identical statue of one of the Terror Dogs, placed in an office, the photo next to it depicted it being sold in an auction house, the sign of which was clearly visible.

Ben pulled out a battered but up-to-date copy of the Yellow Pages and started browsing the auction houses in London. He ran his finger down the list until he tracked down the name of the auction house, Alister Crown Holdings. He dialled up the number and waited for a reply.

_"Alister Crown Holdings...how can I direct you call?"_ A female voice asked.

"Ah...hello...I'd like to track down an old auction you had in..." Ben picked up the phone and scooted the chair back across to his research. "1939."

_"I'd have to put your through to our records room...Mr. Sampson is head of that department." _The woman explained.

"Sure." Ben replied and waited as the line was connected to a different phone.

_"Daniel Sampson - Records Department." _A much more older, male voice asked.

"Oh...hello Mr. Sampson...I was wondering if you could run a check on an auction you had in 1939?" Ben asked.

_"Depending on some circumstances."_ Mr. Sampson replied. _"Who do you work for and why are you looking for a specific archived auction?"_ He asked.

"Mr. Sampson, my name is Ben King, I work with a company known as Ghostbusters...I was wanting to try locate a specific auction where a statue was sold in 1939. We're trying to identify where it came from." Ben explained.

_"I see...do you have a picture of this statue?"_ Mr. Sampson asked.

"I do...I have a pair of photographs of it in one of my architectural books...that's how I found the auction house which sold it...I also have a set of architectural plans of the statue."

_"A copy of the architectural plans should suffice..."_ Mr. Sampson replied.

"Excellent." Ben replied in turn. "Do you have an email address I can send the copy too? It's just that we're on a tight deadline and I'd be most thankful if you could get me the details of where the statue was found...hopefully before the 8th." Ben asked.

_"Well..."_ Mr. Sampson paused as he cleared his throat. _"Usually these things would take more time...however...depending on the quality of the plans...and the fact you knew the year it was sold it...and depending on the uniqueness of the piece...it may shorten the amount of places I'd have to look. Send the picture via fax to our office."_

"Thank you Mr. Sampson...I'll send a copy of the plans to that email once I've finished this call with you." Ben replied as he scribbled down the email address.

_"Understood...however you must bear in mind that I may not be able to locate the item you're after." _Mr. Sampson explained.

"I know...any information you can get is better then none...thank you for your time." Ben replied.

_"I hope I can find something...goodbye Mr. King."_ With the conversation ended Ben placed the phone back on his desk and collected the statue's plans and made his way over to the scanner. Five minutes after the phone call had ended he scanned the plans, cropped them and seven minutes after the end of the conversation Ben was typing up an email. With the explanation given, the plans attached and the address placed in the address bar he clicked on the send message and hope that Mr. Sampson could dig something up.

* * *

**6:00 PM **

* * *

The meeting room was alive with activity. Close to fifty folding chairs were placed neatly in a semi-circular fashion around an old wooden podium. Most of the seats were already occupied by Ghostbusters, and many of them were in the midst of discussions when the last few stragglers entered, followed by Vincent, Egon, and Fritz, all huddled around the Book of Gozer as they cut through the chairs like a ship throught the ocean of chairs. Iain stood over at a refreshment table with Peter, discussing events over coffee.

The buzz died down when Egon cleared his throat, and standing Ghostbusters sheepishly crept to empty seats.

"Is everyone accounted for?" Egon asked over the forest of heads in the room.

"Good. We can't afford to have anyone absent from this meeting. We have gathered here to discuss our findings and to assess the threat of a return of Gozer. As you all know, Dr. Belmont, Dr. Baugh, and myself have been studying the book, and posting bits of it on the bulletin boards. Our news is rather...disconcerting...Belmont?"

Belmont stepped forward clicked a button on a small remote, and the room went dark. A projector lit up the room with a dull luminescence, casting an eerie glow among the faces of the Ghostbusters. The projection was a pleathora of diagrams copied from the book. Vincent assisted his explainations with a small laser pointer.

"Without having to go into lengthy detail, the whole book is a ritual diagram and instruction manual, meant to summon two entities...Zuul, and Vinz Clortho...Keymaster and Gatekeeper of Volguus Zildrohar, more widely known as 'Gozer the Gozerian.' These two entities summoned to earth come in the form of pure energy, most likely by ectoplasmic manifestation. When the host is chosen, the posessor takes control, and performs yet another ritual...a rather bizzare ritual intended to bring Gozer to the respective world to consume and destroy it...my guess is that several 'worlds' have similar manuscripts that serve the same function as this one."

The hand of Jeff Nash shot up immediately.

"Jeff?"

"Is that Enochian? It looks different from the Sumerian the book was written in." Jeff asked.

"Very astute, Jeff," Vincent said with a hint of suprise, "it is indeed Enochian. For those of you who don't know, Enochian is an inherently magical language. The mere utterance of each word in the language manifests power, and each word forms a metaphysical pattern to shape that energy. Spells in enochian are very simple...pairing single verbs with nouns can create a pleathora of effects. Before Hermes Trismegistus' time, magi used this language to work magic...however, Enochian is unstable. Every action performed in Enochian evokes a reaction, and those reactions can be catastrophic...that is why I, and fellows like myself use Latin. It is structurally the most sound language on the planet. As always, GBI employees will NOT discuss magic, the Hermetic order, wizards, or any other occult academia with non-GBI employees."

There was a low muttering before the hand of Roger Kennedy raised.

"Roger?"

"So what does this ritual do, exactly? How does it bring Gozer here? I thought Gozer was destroyed." Roger asked. He held aloft a handheld audio cassette recorder.

Vincent hesitated slightly before starting the explaination. "Well," he stammered, "Gozer's form has obviously not been destroyed, if Zuul and Vinz are still present, then that means Gozer must still be a presence, albeit most likely dispersed. The ritual creates a beacon of sorts. This beacon calls out to all of the energies that is Gozer, and summons them to one point. What puzzles me is that it would need a 'vessel' to reform with...a phylactery of sorts. My guess, is that Gozer has a 'heart.' Another thing that concerns me is that my associates have seen activity near Stonehenge. Cultists are reconstructing what looks to be a portal edifice, that will open a gateway between one world and another. My only conclusion is that the summoners cannot perform a direct summoning of Gozer here. Gozer may be too weak to make the trip. If that is true, a swift strike may prove effective."

"A portal..." Roger asked, "...like in the movie?"

Vincent grunted with displeasure. "Yes," he mumbled, "like in the movie."

Jill Valentine stood up in the back and interrupted with a question that made everyone turn their heads.

"So how do they summon it? What's with the Keymaster-Gatekeeper" thing? Why do they need bodies to do this?"

Sarah stood up as well. "Yes," she said, her voice nervously wavering, "why me?"

All of the Ghostbusters in the room turned again to face the three men in the front. Vincent's face went even more pale than it was previously. he turned to Fritz.

"I'm not answering this..." Vincent whispered to Fritz. Fritz turned a shade of bright pink.

"Ummm...well," Fritz stammered, "the ritual needs a release of a tremendous amount of psychic energy from them...and there are only a few things that produce such enormous emotional psychic energy...one, is death. The thing is, they can't very well kill each other. Another, and the one mentioned in the texts, is..."

Fritz ran his fingers through his hair and mumbled sheepishly.

"...coital climax."

The room went deathly silent. Many Ghostbusters either went red in the face, or began to fidget in their seats.

"I'm sorry I asked..." Jill mumbled as she sat down.

Heads started to turn towards Sarah. Sarah was _horrified_.

"You're telling me that some psychopath is coming to RAPE me to satisfy some crusty ancient babble-balognian god?" she screamed, "Oh, this is NOT happening. I'm fucking OUT of here! I don't need the Ghostbusters, I need the police!"

With that, Sarah, stormed out of the room, slamming the doors against the wall as she went.

"Someone stop her..." Vincent snapped, as several Ghostbusters immediately got up from their seats. Adam Bestler and Rosey Collins set off after Sarah, leaving the other Ghostbusters in the room.

"Bottom line," Egon began again, " is that if worse comes to worse, we need a plan. In case we see a return of Gozer, we need a plan to prevent it from entering our world."

"We're open to any suggestions," Fritz mentioned as he started straightening his notes.

Some of the bewildered Ghostbusters were still taking in the abrupt departure of Sarah before they turned their attentions to the front. Some exchanged looks, and some shrugged their shoulders. Roger stood up.

"We'd offer suggestions, Fritz," he said, hesitantly, "but we're in over our heads now as it is. We have so little info to go on. We'll just go with any plan Egon has, I mean, _he's_ the brains, after all..."

Vincent scowled and slapped his own forehead, looking up to the ceiling, asking God what it was that is wrong with his companions. He then gestured to himself and Fritz.

"Oh, holy mother of mercy...What are we, chopped liver?" he grumbled, "you're all grown up Ghostbusters, now. You're ALL capable of standing on your own two feet, and making decisions for yourselves! If we all thought to ourselves 'Oh Lord, I couldn't _possibly_ be as smart as the great _Egon Spengler,_' would ANYTHING get done? No! Why in the hell would we call these meetings if we didn't want input?"

Only a couple of Ghostbusters noticed that Egon had blushed slightly as Vincent ranted. A murmuring of voices overcame the room as Roger sat down in his seat; his face slightly red. He sat in slight disgust at being reprimanded by one of his peers. _Yeah, and we sign your checks, mate._ He thought.

The murmuring turned into a a cacaphony of voices rising in volume, with various topics of problem solution in progress. Egon, Vincent, and Fritz then began to discuss things amongst themselves as the noise became louder, as some Ghostbusters shouted to be heard over the others.

The doors to the room opened, and Adam returned to the discussion immediately, as Rosey entered with Sarah crying on her shoulder. Rosey sat Sarah down and ran to fetch her a cup of coffee.

"Hey!" Tommy Simpson shouted over all of the others. Almost immediately, the conversation died down. Tommy Simpson stood up, as well as Robert Griffiths.

"Rob and I had an idea, but..." he stammered.

"Please, go on!" Egon interrupted, "we want suggestions."

"Yeah, but this is kinda a stupid question..." Tommy stated.

"No!" Vincent snapped, "spill it. There are no stupid questions...only stupid mistakes, which we are trying to avoid by discussing things here."

Tommy looked at Robert. Robert nodded.

"Well," Robert began, "question is, does Gozer have enemies? I mean, you mentioned in the briefings of the translations that Gozer fought with this Meketrex thing, and fought with some big crabby thing...uh..."Chur-gar," was it?"

Egon began to pace the room as he scratched his chin. "Yes," he said, "I think I know where you're going with this."

"Well...it seems pretty clear that the primal gods are good at taking each other out, they're like mob bosses, waiting to do the other one over...what if we found a primal god who isn't so...bent on the apocalypse?" Iain shrugged a little hesitantly, not sounding convinced of the idea himself.

Vincent's face went pale, and his eyes grew wide as he stared at Iain in horror silently for a few moments.

"I seriously doubt it," Egon mused, "even if we could find an entity which had enough power to combat Gozer, and if the entity even somehow knew Gozer from the wars when Earth was new...it would take an incredible amount of power to control an entity of that size. Vincent, is there anything out there about contacting something like that?"

"No," Vincent mumbled, "I won't do it. It's a bad idea amongst a long history of bad ideas. What you would be asking, is to make contact with an alien intelligence, and then invite the blasphemous thing to our world. Then, only then, one would have to reign it in, and that is much easier said, than done. That requires a much greater power than any one man can do alone. Magic is dangerous business...one screw up and you condemn yourself. Magic takes its toll, and the only spells I have ever known to do things like that require that I commit the very atrocities in this book that we are trying to prevent."

Vincent leaned against the wall and rubbed his forehead. Peter spoke for the first time during the meeting, and sparked the interest of everyone in the room.

"Uh, I hate to bring this up," Peter began, "but this all sounds really familiar. Wasn't this whole fiasco of "Clash of the War Gods" thing mentioned by that little cutie that called you "Spooky?"

"QUIT CALLING ME BY THAT INFANTILE NICKNAME!" Vincent roared.

"No, really, Vinny," Peter protested, "I'm serious this time. What was her name? Allie, Alena, Alexis..."

"Alexandra," Vincent mumbled; his voice now turning to solemn remembrance, "It was Alexandra Roivas. She prevented the coming of a dreadful 'god' in 2000. She performed the same feat when the Roman lich Pious Augustus summoned forth one of those 'things' they call the Great Old Ones."

"Then what's stopping us, Vinny?" Peter asked. For the first time since the trip, Peter looked serious; something that brought the room to complete silence. "You're the greatest wizard we've had the pleasure of knowing since Phineus Eventide. I know that Alex chick wasn't one of those pointy hat folk. I mean, come on! This is like Glenda the Good Witch versus Gandalf the White! If she could do it, it _has_ to be cake for you...or is that, _crumpets_ or something?"

Vincent looked over the whole room, and saw many of his co-workers nodding in agreement. He turned to both Fritz and Egon, who were doing the same.

"Peter," Vincent began, "Alex had access to an apparatus that amplified her personal energy thousandfold, even then, there was a supply of additional energy being pumped through living sacrifices in the..."

"Can it be done?" Egon interrupted, sounding almost impatient, "is there a way to gather the necessary requirements to complete something like that?"

"I would have to..." Vincent began to protest, but was quickly interrupted.

"We can get materials, Vince, GBI would pay for something like this." Fritz said.

"Yeah, but..."

"We're all willing to follow any instructions to the letter," Tommy chimed in.

"Yes, but you don't..."

"Is it money, Vince? If you're asking for money, we can pay you for this..." said Egon.

Vincent stared at Egon, furious. "How DARE you? In all of my years, I have served humanity with this job, and you think I do it for the _money?_"

More suggestions began to roll in, and soon, the room was into shouting again.

"Well-Why don't we cross the streams, seal the gate before Gozer can come through?" Eric Rose asked. This question almost seemed to provoke an adverse and almost completely alien reaction from Vincent...he appeared to be seething and his face had become quite flushed. To add to it, some in the audience could have sworn they saw a dangerous red flash in the wizard's eyes.

"DAMN IT!" Vincent roared. His voice seemed to boom and reverberate through the room, and his very presence seemed to grow, shrinking the room. His fury seemed to darken the room, and his anger struck the hearts of all of the audience. "You all put too much stock in a God damned Hollywood film! These are REAL lives were toying with!..." Vincent fumed to everyone's astonishment. "Crossing the streams only worked once. It was a one in a million shot that was never supposed to work, but by the grace of God, they did it...but whenever a problem breaks out, NOOO! We gotta cross the streams!"

"Now, wait a minute Vincent..." Roger protested, shocked at Vincent's sudden departure from his usual rationale.

"We have science now, Vincent. Man has come so far since the dawn of time..." Iain replied calmly, attempting to calm the raw emotions that were begining to take flight in the room.

"So far? God, you people! Humans are arrogant...there are some things that weren't meant for human comprehension...there are some things better left to..." Vincent protested, Peter and Egon both shared a worried glance, it looked like they were there for the ride.

"GOD... is that it?" Iain questioned with a stern voice and a raised eyebrow. Vincent stood still, completely speechless at the podium. As the furious wizard stared at Iain, the air seemed to grow heavy, and the shadows thicker. The very blood in everyone's veins seemed to turn to ice.

In the crowd Adam stood up to be able to get a clear view of Vincent. "Look, get off your high fucking horse, Belmont. You always bring spiritualism and religion into this..."

Vincent turned his glare on the Ghostbusters Independant member. "I will NOT be party to all of your madness...you already imperil me by asking me to summon a demon god..." he growled. In the corner of the room, Rosey, Sarah, Jill and a couple of others cowered in the corner. Other Ghostbusters nervously seated themselves, slouching in their chairs. Jeff Nash stood up, watching Adam and Vincent closely, looking for things to turn sour.

_Dammit, this is ridiculous. He's right to be concerned, but you'd think a 'buster with Belmont's amount of experience wouldn't be so self-righteous as to think every ancient "god" is some demonic threat to his personal beliefs. We catalog and categorize these things for a reason. ?_ Jeff Nash thought sourly.

"...look at you, you hypocrite...didn't the Bible, YOUR book you hold so dear say 'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live?' Deuteronomy 18, verses 10 and following: 'Let no one be found among you who sacrifices his son or daughter in the fire, who pactices divination or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or spiritualist or who consults the dead. Anyone who does these things is detestable to the Lord, and because of these detestable practices the Lord your God will drive out those nations before you." Adam retorted.

Vincent considered this for a moment, shortly before his left fist connected with Adam's jaw, the sheer force and surprise sent the younger Ghostbuster toppling backward. Vincent then leaped forward, raising both legs before him in a fan kick that was so swift that many didn't even witness it in the confusion. Adam toppled over Tommy Simpson and and Robert Griffiths, knocking them both over. Vincent then set of after Adam in magnificent fury.

On the podium Fritz and Egon grabbed a hold of Vincent's fists as Jeff Nash and Ben King Sr grappled to hold Adam amid the protests of Iain and Rosey. Adam swung blindly forward, barely missing Jeff as he was held down.

"Stand Down, Dr. Belmont." Egon with a steely firmness.

Vincent shifted his weight, and pulled on his right arm, throwing Egon over his shoulder. Egon cried out in pain as his form collided with the floor.

"What do you fools think you're doing?" Iain bellowed, the authoritive voice he used during his RAF days having set in, "We have mere DAYS before a demon god comes stomping down on my home, and we're having a sodding fist fight!"

Peter and Roger both tackled Vincent, forcing him to the floor. Vincent's legs connected with Roger and Peters' stomachs, and he rolled backward, kicking them both over him, sending them into a nearby desk.

As Vincent jumped to his feet, he felt the arms of Fritz Baugh enclosing him from behind tightly, his arms locking together. Vincent would have done something, if it hadn't been for another pair of arms grabbing him, and holding him; those of Jill Valentine.

"Vincent!" she cried, "Please! Stop it!"

Vincent relaxed, and he felt Fritz's grip recede.

"What was going on?" she pleaded, "I know you're upset, honey. We're scared, we're all scared. The comments were uncalled for, but those are your friends! They have as much to lose as you do, we all have. I know what you're going through...we all know."

"...and what would YOU know of loss or pain, woman? What would YOU know of spending every waking moment facing the unknown so people can go on with their happy, normal and completely oblivious lives?" Vincent hissed at her. The whole room went perfectly silent. All were in silence, staring at the couple near the front of the room.

That was when Jill slapped Vincent across the face, hard enough to leave a red hand print on the left side of his face, stunning him into silence. The truth was, he instantly regretted it, it was probably the coldest thing he had ever said to her, considering what had happened between them in the past.

"You bastard..." Jill uttered, evidently trying to hold back tears, she then vanished off somewhere in the direction of the kitchen. Vincent stood in silence, as his head turned toward the stunned onlookers. He then glanced at the door to the conference room. All of the people present in the room turned away quickly as if to say it wasn't their business. Damning himself, Vincent muttered something in a dark and unknown tongue and then made his way to the staircase, and from there, the second floor balcony.

"I think we should just probably postpone any further discussion for now." Fritz replied sternly as he adjusted his glasses,breaking the awkward silence. The group muttered a collective affirmative, some nursing their wounds, but there was still a nasty element in the air.

* * *

**8:15 PM**

* * *

Iain stepped out onto the balcony and paused, there was a man who looked like Vincent Belmont standing at the railing, resting his arms on it, with his glasses hanging off his fingertips. This man, however, just didn't seem like Vincent Belmont. For the first time since Iain met him, Vincent looked old; very, very old. He was sedate. He was a weary and broken man, leaning over a railing, staring up blankly at the setting sun. Iain saw his eyes as he approached the railing to join him. His eyes were both red and watery, and the rings under his eyes, and the drawn and pale face made him seem like more of a mummy than a man.

"Are you okay?" Iain hesitated, after what had happened before the meeting broke he wasn't quite sure what could happen, he was briefly reminded of a television catchphrase "Anything can happen in the next half hour!"

Vincent's only response were his eyes moving to acknowledge Iain's presence.

"I am not..." Vincent muttered after what seemed like an age.

"Well...we've been under a lot of stress," Iain shrugged, "what's eating you?"

"...the fact that I am a selfish and foolish man.' Vincent chocked.

"Selfish, eh?" Iain mused, "Well, we're all selfish at times. We all cater to our own whims on occasion, but I also see you as selfless, many times. Why are you selfish, Belmont?"

"That woman waited years to be with me after I selfishly left the country in a fit of rage. She passed up the chance at a life with numerous other men, even keeping a picture of me on her desktop in her office...while I have a sordid and meaningless relationship with a paranormally plagued police detective who decides that her cells are telling her that she doesn't want me and moves off to L.A." Vincent rested his head on the balchony railing.

"Yeah," Iain muttered, "so you had a bad relationship, and she waited forever for you, and it took a zombie-infested city to bring you two together. it doesn't make you selfish OR foolish, Vince."

"No, it makes me a coward..." Vincent scowled.

"Coward?" Iain chuckled weakly, "...the coward who took on evil sorcerers, ghosts, goblins, aliens, demons, the living dead, and evils incarnate? The coward who helped take down a corrupt megacorporation that almost unleashed an undead apocalypse? The coward that will stand and laugh in the face of the Illuminati? Oh, yeah. Okay. I can't wait to hear you convince me of this one."

Vincent only looked at Iain. He places his glasses on his face and took out a small locket. He popped it open, revealing a picture of Jill on one side, and a small girl on the other. Sitting between the two pictures was a diamond ring. Iain looked up at Vincent, quizzically.

"Who's the kid?" Iain asked.

"Her name is Cher- no. Heather. Heather is her name now. She's the girl that I..." Vincent explained. Iain's eyes grew wide.

"No way!" Iain exclaimed, "that's the little baby they found you carrying during that incident at...Silent Hill?"

Vincent looked a bit taken back.

"No worries, Mate," Iain assured him, "only a couple of people know...and they don't know the real story."

Iain then quickly looked at the ring, "That's for Miss Valentine, I take it?" Iain said, quickly wanting to change the subject, "C'mon! All men are cowards when it comes to the biggest, scariest question of their lives!"

Vincent only closed the locket and tucked it back in his shirt.

"Look," Iain said, now resting his arms on the railing, as both men stared out at the sunset, "I'm sure Jill will understand by tomorrow, and the rest of them have forgiven you already...well...except Adam, but that's debatable. You just haven't been yourself lately, Belmont. This whole thing has you pent up. The Belmont I know has always been level headed in these "end of the world" situations. We've postponed discussions until tomorrow. We're not giving up, yet."

"I...shall have to speak to Jill before I go to bed...I..."

In the distance, the sky was becoming overcast, but something small moved in the sky amongst the orange and purple clouds. Iain peered at the object for a few minutes before finally deducing what it was. It was a bird, a Red Kite to be precise, hovering easily in the air as it hunted for prey.

"Look at that." Iain replied quietly as he tapped Vincent's shoulder with the backside of his hand. Vincent looked up at Iain and then followed his gaze. He looked out at it for a moment, and removed his glasses again. For the first time since their conversation started, Vincent hinted at a bit of a smile.

"Red Kite..." Vincent muttered.

"It's funny really, it has no idea that it's world might end, all it's doing is what it was born to do." Ian commented wistfully.

Vincent's expression turned solemn for a moment, but his smile became obvious. "We're dangerously close to cliche territory here, Mr. Bennett." Vincent replied dryly. Both men chuckled, quietly.

"Okay..." Iain replied with a smirk. "But there's got to be something...so let's rule out the option of crossing the streams, what about the rival god option? If I remember that case file right, Ms. Roivas did something to cast away the creature that did battle with Pious' god for fear that it would instead bring about ruin."

"Like I said...even if we could find a god, I'm not sure we have the type of power to be able to control that creature to deal Gozer enough of a blow. My only other option is that We could use the summoned creature to keep Gozer preoccupied while someone else were to destroy Gozer's power source...but then the problem is...where is it kept?" Vincent explained calmly.

"What if we're looking in the wrong place?" Iain asked, a little cryptically.

"Even to perform these feats, I would need an energy source. I would also need something that is familiar to Gozer...something with that metaphysical link I would need..." Vincent mused.

"Well...Excalibur has been a godsend since it chose me in Avalon, and here I am. King Arthur, defending England from her foes..." Iain beamed.

"You and swords..." Vincent laughted heartilly, he then paused as a expression of thought fell across his face.

"Yeah," Iain laughed as he slapped Vincent on the back, playfully, "but every Arthur needs a Merlin! Look at us...Arthur and Merlin, champions once again!"

"Arthur...and...Merlin?" Vincent mumbled under his breath.

"What is it?" Iain asked, having an unclear message if the wizard was talking to himself or the only other Ghostbuster present on the balcony.

"Iain! You're a GENIUS!" Vincent exclaimed, grabbing Iain's shoulders and shaking him violently.

"'Course I am!" Iain grinned, "now, WHY am I a genius?"

"Think, Iain! Why is the cult building at Stonehenge? Who is rumored to have built Stonehenge? Where is a possible location that Gozer might have tried to enter planet Earth?" Vincent drilled Iain in rapid succession as he fumbled to put his glasses on, "I must speak with Egon, there's not a moment to lose!"

"Will this be on the test?" Iain asked, still unsure why Vincent had suddenly become manic.

Vincent wasted no time dashing through the balcony door and down the stairs, leaving a bewildered Iain behind. Iain looked out at the sunset one last time before he went indoors after Vincent.

* * *

F32136-60504y  
053


	10. June 6, 2004 Part 2

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge,

and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

* * *

**8:30PM**

* * *

Rosey Collins' head was still spinning from what had happened earlier...it had taken her all to calm down the frantic Sarah Jones, then to see Vincent just completely lose it the way he did...she needed a walk, and the grounds outside the former Asylum seemed inviting.

With a start, she realized there was somebody already out there. One of the Americans.

"Doctor...oh, how was it pronounced? Bog?"

"Baugh, Miss Collins. Rhymes with 'awe'" he responded, just having noticed her there.

"I bet you spent your entire childhood pronouncing and spelling it for people..." Rosey couldn't help but crack.

"Indeed..." he replied. "It's been easier since Rush Limbaugh became popular, but I hate to use that fact for fear of people thinking we're connected-the man is an ass..."

"How long you been doing this then, Doctor?"

"Call me Fritz. A little over a year...April '03."

"Rosey. And I've only been here a few months-since Graveyard Shift started..."

"A pleasure to make your formal aquaintance then, Rosey."

"You look like you have a lot on your mind..."

"How could I not? Barely a month ago I buried one of my teammates...after foiling an Egyptian god...and now all of this..."

"The GBUK guys lost one of their mates last summer...they don't talk about it much..."

"I can't blame them." Fritz shook his head.

There were a few minutes of silence.

"Belmont's got a plan...but I have trepidations about it. Or more honestly, after that show back in the conference room...dare I say, trepidations about him."

Rosey just nodded.

"I agree totally with what he said about the Professor...it's hard not to be a little awed by him and all of the founders, I know...but that doesn't mean we turn our brains off and let him do all the thinking for us."

"But his attack on Bestler..."

"Bestler can be a bit..." Rosey paused. "Abraisive. But they're all close here-I got a brother myself, and we fight all the time. You got any brothers or sisters?"

"Three younger brothers. And yes, there were some definite bad moments growing up..."

"Well, Vincent and Adam are sorta like that."

"Perhaps. But it was Belmont's...for lack of a better term, self-righteous indignation that gave me pause. I grew up in the Mid-West, among very religious people...I have my beliefs, but I could just never fit in to their mold. Too many people that religious shut their brains off...it took the Catholic Church three hundred years to admit that the Earth was not the geographical center of the universe, and they're still arguing about evolution..."

"Vincent is a very intelligent man."

"I know that. And on the whole he's definitely NOT been one of those self-righteous pricks I grew up around. But this whole situation is eating at him-he actually snapped at me when I shared one of my translations..."

She had to blink. It was somehow disjoint from her impressions of him to hear Fritz uttering a description like "self righteous prick."

"It talked about the 'War of the Gods' and the destruction of the 'great lizard beasts'..." he continued. "I mentioned that it showed some parallels to the theory that an asteroid led to the death of the dinosaurs and he practically bit my head off."

"I never understood that kind of belief either, Fritz...but it's a large world out there."

"I'm just worried that his beliefs might blind him at a critical moment."

* * *

**9:35PM (England)**

* * *

"Are you sure this is wise? I mean, something could crawl out of the Hell Hole and into this while it's still warm." Ben King Sr replied as he indicated a doorway set into a grey, concrete wall.

"I must do this, there is a chance that I might be able to find something that I can use to help us defeat Gozer...I don't know how long it'll take but I'll try keep my time in Arcane Alley to a minimum." Vincent Belmont explained as he drew a series of runes along the doorframe of a small cupboard in the basement of the building with a length of chalk.

"But are you sure there's even such a thing here? I'm surprised if there is one...this place wasn't much before they built the sanatorium." Ben King Sr asked.

"It IS here, and has remained hidden from everyone who have no knowledge of the stuff of wizards," Vincent explained as he consulted a large book which had several pages dedicated to the process he was performing. "Ben...I cannot guarantee that I will be back too long before we need to confront Gozer...I have taken a lot of thought into this issue, but I want you to keep a watch over the Graveyard Shift until my return." He fixed the other Ghostbuster with a serious expression.

"You think that's a good suggestion? I'm gonna be tied up with my research into this thing...surely Eric's good enough to handle things by himself, he usually fills in for you when you're away." Ben replied.

"For short term, as good as Eric is at leadership, I do not believe he has the right amount of experience just yet, I believe you are more then capable of maintaining order within the team until my return." Vincent explained.

"Okay, but you'd better be coming back...last thing we need is another funeral of a former team-member to screw up things."

"The track to Arcane Alley is dangerous and nearly a labyrinth in its own right, but I will be fine. I've already spoken to Egon about the plan, and both he and Fritz are already making preparations," Vincent replied.

"Okay, so if I'm hearing this right, we're conjuring some thing to keep Gozer busy while we look for Gozer's weak spot?"

"Correct." Vincent stated. "Egon knows what to do, now I'm going to get what we need to do it. Good luck, friend, my course shall be sure and swift."

Ben nodded and stepped back.

Vincent's voice echoed slightly as it reverberated through the room. _Deflagrate muri tempi et intervallia. Ego ambulo arcanum Viae de Magum accelerare peregrinatio._ His voice seemed to waver, and an eldritch chill permeated the room as a sound which seemed to be a chorus of chanters trailed off after Vincent finished speaking.

Suddenly, a purple and gold energy flashed and sparkled around the doorframe for a few moments before dissipating. Vincent then grasped the handle and opened the door, Ben uttered a gasp when he saw what lay beyond the wooden doorway, instead of the broom cupboard lay a vertical silvery blue pool of what looked to be a liquid resembling mercury. Vincent strode in and the door closed itself behind him.

Ben hesitated for a moment, and then grasped the handle and opened the door. Instead of the murky, reflective pool sat the broom cupboard.

"One of these days I think I'm gonna need to take a very long vacation..." Ben muttered as he closed the door and walked away.

* * *

**9:45PM**

* * *

"Well, Belmont's safely on his way to wherever he's going." Ben King Sr announced as he walked into the GBUK Rec Room, unzipping the top part of his flight suit so he could relax a little in one of the many chairs in the room.

"How'd he leave?" Roger Kennedy asked, looking up from a game of poker with Eric Rose. Roger was also playing cards with Robert Griffeths, Joey Williams and at the moment, Dr. Peter Venkman. Strangely unsurprising, Peter held most of the chips.

"Portal..the portal in the basement." Ben explained, standing, and taking a moment to remove his glasses and try ease some of the tension out of his brow.

Ben looked up after what seemed to be a strange silence suddenly overtake the room. He looked at the break room table to find all of the Ghostbusters staring at him as if he had had announced that he was pregnant. Peter was the first to break the tableau by looking around the table at the other confused Ghostbusters.

"What?" Ben asked, breaking the odd silence, "he comes and goes at will...he IS a _WIZARD_, you know."

The others shrugged as they went back to their game of cards, as the whole notion of Vincent doing strange things seemed perfectly normal, now that they thought of it. Most of them had seen Vincent perform even more bizzare feats in the past. They opened up a seat for Ben and began dealing a new hand for him.

"I don't think we're going to have enough guys here to beat Gozer..." Eric replied as he checked his new hand of cards.

"What do you mean?" Roger asked.

"Well, last time the Ghostbusters took Gozer by surprise."

"Makes sense, the big Goz probably didn't expect us to have unlicenced nuclear accellerators on our backs." Peter agreed with a grin.

"But this time, Gozer's gonna know about us, heck, this whole mess with Jeremy just shouts 'I know about you now!' It's like we're holding a pair of Deuces while Jeremy's letting on that Gozer's holding a royal flush." Eric sighed, arranging his hand, trying not to show his fellows that he was only holding a pair of Deuces.

"Well," Ben interjected, throwing in a red poker chip to the center of the table, "I say right now, we're looking to 'call Gozer's bluff."

"So you think we should get more guys in?" Roger cocluded, seeing all of the others nod emphatically.

"Exactly what I'm saying-" Eric replied. "-I just don't know who we could call in at short notice, most of the other Ghostbusters teams are three hours and three thousand miles away."

"Well, you could always call the Paris branch..." Peter added quietly.

Ben bolted upright, an expression of sheer confusion on his face.

"What?" He asked in bewilderment.

"-then there's the Luxemburg Ghostbusters...though, that's only really a three-man operation..._really_ small country..." Peter mused.

"Peter, what on earth are you talking about?" Ben asked.

"Oh, y'know...the European franchises...though, the French one kind of got shut down after an incident with the French President..." He replied with a smirk.

"Why haven't we heard about these European franchises before?" Ben asked, a small portion of anger creeping into his voice. Peter levelled his gaze and Ben.

"Have you ever cared about anything in Europe before tonight?"

Ben just stared at the elder Ghostbuster.

"Point taken." He replied and collapsed back into his chair. There was silence in the room for several minutes before Peter Venkman finally announced:

"Now, am I the only one who thinks we should get stinking drunk before we need to work tomorrow?"

"Yes," Joey grunted, "call."

Each Ghostbuster threw down the cards in front of them, and sighed with frustration as they saw Venkman's winning hand.

"Isn't that a very bad idea?" Eric asked tentatively, raising an eyebrow at the elder Ghostbuster.

"I have to agree...I don't like the idea of any of us having a hangover when we're working tomorrow." Ben agreed, although he seemed a little uncaring after hearing the info about European competition.

"Oh c'mon..." Peter pleaded playfully, dumping his cards on the table. "The world could be ending in only a number of days, and you don't want to have one last brewski?" He added with a wink.

"You're really giving us confidence to succeed." Robert retorted, sarcastically.

"-Let me get my jacket." Ben muttered before leaving the room.

* * *

**Location: Somewhere hidden...time unknown **

* * *

Vincent stepped beyond the door and into the swirling mists. The place was dark. He was outside, looking onto an enormous expanse under a starless sky. He drew the wand from his coat, and tapped his index finger on the end. A soft white glow emitted from the tip. He held it aloft and looked around. Everywhere he looked, the mists of this strange place clouded his vision.

He walked on, following the dirt path beneath his feet. This odd dirt path looked more like a fine silvery powder, that was even slightly luminescent; though it was not nearly enough so to see.

He heard sounds off in the mist. It was laughter, as if small children were out in the strange fog, playing. Vincent looked off the path again, and stopped. He shivered, and pulled his coat tighter. He looked behind him, but he did not see the door. It had been left far behind him. Again, he heard the tinkling ethereal laughter that came from someone, or something beyond the curtain of mist.

"Great," he thought, "I never did walk to Arcane Alley from Great Britain before..."

He looked at his feet; at the silvery dirt path on which he stood. He looked down the path as far as the fog would allow. He spotted a small flickering glow in the shroud of fog ahead. Vincent quickly doused the light from his wand. He held his breath.

Vincent knew that this was his first time using "The Shining Path" from such a distant location. They are secret roads of magic that wind through the Astral Planes, and link between two objects that serve as "gates" to this strange place. Here, travel is hundreds of times faster than it would be on "earth." It had been a spell that took him nearly a month to decipher, but never did he think that he would find one of the actual gates within the old asylum that served as the Graveyard Shift's headquarters. However, within the text Vincent studied was a warning. It is wholly possible to become lost in the dark world of the astral, for there are no lights; only a thick fog, and a barely visible path to follow. One must know which road to take when a crossroads is encountered. Furthermore, the eldritch dimension is far from benign. Astral beings dwell there, as well as terrifying monsters, and travellers should be wary.

The light grew closer, and Vincent inched his way off the path, hesitating, as he did not want to lose sight of it. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a humanoid shape amble into view. It was a cloaked figure. It looked to be an old bespectacled gentleman with a neatly trimmed white beard, and no hair on his head. Instead, he covered it with a wide-brimmed hat. He carried an old oil lantern to light his way.

The figure stopped.

"Evening, friend," said the man. "You lost?"

Vincent found it hard to speak at first, but finally found his voice.

"I may be, sir. What way is it to Arcane Alley in Salem, Massachusetts?"

"Ahhh, just came from there, m'self, lad." the old man laughed as he pointed a bony finger in the direction that he came from, "Just follow the right fork when you come to it, and then the first left. It shouldn't take you more than a few hours' walk. Be careful not to stray from the path...it's dangerous, you know."

"Oh, I will." Vincent chuckled, "Thank you, magister!"

"Magister!" the old man said in amusement, "That is something I haven't been called in QUITE awhile...Good day, to ya, lad! I must be home soon, or my daughter will never let me hear the end of it!"

Vincent bowed to the old man, and lit his wand again, continuing down the path again, feeling slightly more confident. He glanced at his pocketwatch and grimaced; there wasn't much time. He broke into a slight jog, kicking up small clouds of the fine silvery powder beneath his feet as he went.

* * *

**10:00 PM England **

* * *

In truth, Ben realised he was a little thankful to have gotten out of the HQ and out into the fresh air, leaving the driver's window open as he steered the Ecto-US toward the villiage. He'd been feeling pretty tense over the past few days in both his research and his simply the general atmosphere, and he assumed the others felt the same. The HQ no longer held the somewhat relaxed atmosphere thanks mainly due to that damned book.

The travelling band's main destination was the nearby villiage, and the local Pub. Ben smirked as he drove, the Pub was appropriately named considering their main occupation; The 'Bat and Bell' Freehouse, rentable for parties, both birthday and anniversary. Ben steered the ambulance into the Pub's carpark and killed the engine.

"Alright everyone, time to let you guys sample some of the local brew...just don't try the Special Brew." He warned and he then climbed out, followed by the other travellers.

The 'Bat and Bell' Pub was a two story strcture comprising mostly of brick and flint. Ivy crept up one of the sides, and the building itself felt old. On the side that faced the carpark there were two windows, the upper floor was dark but the lower was lit, and appeared lively. The Ghostbusters walked around to the front and stood outside for a moment as a few patrons left. The front of the building had three windows on the top floor, two on the botton with a door placed where the middle window would have been. Cylindrical black metal lanterns flagged the doors while awnings hung above the windows. Peter looked up. A large, wooden sign swung quitely in the breeze. The Pub's name was spelt out in gold curling script and the lettering was acommpanied by a illustration of a church at night, a full moon and a bat flying past the lunar body. With the doorway now cleared, the Ghostbusters entered the building.

"Now this is somewhere I like." Peter Venkman announced enthusiastically. As it happened, usually when a Ghostbuster entered a room all eyes turned to them, their bizzare and eccentric appearance (No doubt undermined by their unusual uniforms), however, the Pub's regulars didn't seem to be too fussed when Ben stepped into the pub, albeit wearing his leather jacket over his blue and red jumpsuit. Several of the regulars studied the large group of newcomers.

"Ben." The Pub's landlord, who was busy cleaning a pint glass, greeted the leading Ghostbuster.

"Evening, Harrison...what's new?" Ben greeted with a smile on his face, it was something that made Peter smirk in surprise, he hardly ever saw the bespeckled Ghostbuster smile anymore.

"Not too much from th' usual, 'though we're gonna be clos'in a little early tonight, me an th' wife need to be leaving for London early tomorrow, we'll be closing at 'leven." Harrison explained. Ben checked his watch, it gave them about an hour.

"We'll keep that in mind, thanks." Ben nodded. He then turned to the other Ghostbusters. "Right, we've got Stella, Grolsch, Bud, Fosters, 'Old Rodger', Kroneburg and Tiger."

"Well...seeing as I've heard of only two of those beers..." Peter began. "I'd say we try a taster session."

"All I say is, be careful of the 'Old Roger', that stuff's pretty strong." Ben warned as he turned back to the Landlord. "A Stella for me."

* * *

**Arcane Alley; Salem, Massachusetts, USA 6:45pm **

* * *

Vincent stepped out into what appeared to be a small village square. It was late afternoon, and an orange sun hung lazily over the horizon.

He stood beneath an antiquated street lamp, on which hung a dented aluminum plate, bearing the name "Arcane Alley" emblazoned in green letters. This "square" was a more of a circular turnstyle, and in the middle was a fountain, with a large statue of a young wizard holding a great staff aloft. Vincent saw numerous shops around the square, and along the alleyways.

The largest building in the square was an old pub called "The Green Dragon." A beautiful young girl in a waitress' uniform emerged from the entrance, and lit the lamps outside of the door. There was laughing, and even singing emitting from the doorway, and Vincent could even see a few rowdy warlocks inside, singing arm in arm, and swinging around great flagons of beer.

It seems that not much has changed in Arcane Alley from the early 1800's. It was almost "cute." The whole place had a "colonial" feel to it.

Vincent strolled off down the alleyway away from the "Green Dragon." He would meet his contact there, but after nightfall. Vincent had a bit of shopping to do before then.

Vincent strolled down one of the darker alleyways, making his way past shipping crates with addresses written in old runic letters. Vincent glanced over at a trash can as he passed, and smirked as he saw a gremlin poke its head out of the trash can, munching on what looked like a glass beaker.

It was growing darker as he left the brightly lit walkways of Arcane Alley proper, and journeyed farther into the seedier side of the alley. He could now barely see where he was going. Vincent drew his wand out of his coat pocket, and struck the tip of it against the brick of the building next to him, as if lighting a match. The tip flared to life with a bright luminescence, and he saw several shadows flee the light of the wand. Drawing in a breath, he stepped out into the street.

The street was dismal, and was lit only by the occasional glass globe in which giant fireflies buzzed around inside. A few cloaked figures looked in Vincent's direction, before walking quickly away in the opposite direction. Vincent saw the miriad of grizly shops that lined the street, and gulped. A few paces to his immediate left was a ramshackle hotel. He saw the glow of candlelight emitting from a few of the windows. A rickety board hung above the door, and squeaked at its hinges as it swayed in the cool night breeze. The sign read in a simple black scrawl, "Bram's Coffin."

Vincent walked down the street. He looked up at the sky, which was starless, and looming over him was the full moon.

"Strange," he thought, "It was sunset only a moment ago."

Vincent glanced into a few shop windows as he passed. He shuddered at the site of a large steel cage, housing a black spider with legs as long as his arms. He moved away from the window when he stubbed his toe on a large barrel, which housed a collection of human bones.

He walked at a quicker pace down the cobblestone path, and looked up at the signs of the stores. He dare not look in the windows. Not only was he unable to see through the dirty glass, but he had the distinct feeling he was being watched. He paused underneath a shop called "Twilight dreams." He looked behind him, and saw a couple of figures flee, giggling into the shadows. They looked like little children wearing halloween costumes. Of the glimpse Vincent caught of the bags they carried, he clearly read the words "Trick or Treat."

Vincent looked into the shop window of "Twilight Dreams." The lamps inside provided a dull red illumination, and Vincent saw many figures relaxing on the floors and on couches. He caught a whiff of the pungent smell of Opium, and pulled his turtleneck over his mouth and nose. He spied a couple of women inside. They were attractive, from what he saw, but also realized that they were wearing nothing at all. He couldn't tell whether they were kissing and petting the prone men on the floor, still in their opium-induced stupor, or whether they were sucking on their necks...

_What are you doing here, Belmont?_ He asked himself, _get what you need here and get out._

"Hi," a soft, sultry voice called from the doorway.

Vincent quickly turned his head to see a woman standing in the doorway. She was tall , and had a tanned skin and coal black hair that reached down to her ankles. She wore a black cloak, and moved in graceful strides as she glided over to Vincent. She took his hand.

"Come on in, sweetie, I'll make you feel right at home. Whatever you want..."

She wrapped her other arm around Vincent's shoulder, and pulled him close. Vincent caught a glimpse of her nude form under the open cloak, and blushed. He found himself wanting to go in. He couldn't tell whether it was a male weakness, or if it was the smell of the opium, or even the cheesy sitar music emitting from the building that enticed him. He lowered his wand, and the light from it died down and snuffed itself out. His brain screamed at him to run, but his body did not follow.

"I'll be your girl..." she wispered softly into his ear.

Something inside him snapped him back into reality. He thought of Jill. He pushed the woman away, and pointed the wand at her.

"Sacres Flammae!" he spat in disgust, as the tip of the wand burst into bluish white flames. The woman cringed and hissed in an inhuman voice, baring two viscious-looking fangs. She covered her eyes and slinked away from the solar radiance into one of the alleyways. She looked up, and hissed at Vincent as she walked backwards on her hands and feet, and crawled up onto one of the alley walls in spasmic movements. She sank into the shadows and disappeared.

Vincent ran down the street, no longer looking in any windows at all. He only glanced at the store signs as he ran past, stopping at one that read "Voodoo Majik." He pushed open the door, that rung a small bell as he entered, and slammed it shut behind him.

He glanced around at the inside of the shop. Numerous small dead animals hung from their necks on the ceiling. Shelves lined the walls, with jars containing foul components, which Vincent would guess were not given up willingly. Shrunken heads lined a glass case in the shop window, and above it on small pillows rested grisly objects, which included a straw doll, a bone necklace, and a mummified hand.

Vincent approached the counter and stuffed his wand in his coat pocket, finding the room to be aptly lit by candlelight. The counter displayed powders and herbs, and many books with tentative titles such as "Finding the Loa," "The Book of Samhedi," and "The Bokor's Black Book."

"Go away, Senor!" called a deep baritone voice from the back, "Ahm closed for de night, ya?"

Vincent knew the voice well, but still never discerned by his accent whether the man was of Jamaican or Spanish descent.

"You hear me, senor?" the voice shouted again, as a man lumbered into view, "Ahm closed! Get odda here or I shrink ye head good!"

The man paused when he caught sight of Vincent. The man was black, and stood over 6 feet tall, being almost as big around as he was tall. He was bald, and had eyes of pure white. He wore only a dirty white shirt and a black vest, and a pair of wide pantaloons that came down to his knees. He wore a miriad of bizarre jewelry that appeared to be made of chicken bones. He pasted on a false grin, showing a gold tooth among the rows of white teeth he had.

"Allo, Ingles..." he grunted, "what brings ye to me 'umble shop?"

"Monsignor Domino..." Vincent scowled, "...do you have what I need?"

"Whatever do ye mean, Ingles?" Domino grinned, "I 'ave no idea what'choo be talkin' bout. Why don'choo refresh ol' Domino's memory, ya?"

Vincent slammed his hands down on the counter and leaned over, spitting out his sentances in harsh whispers.

"The Aglopholis, you idiot!"

Monsignor Domino's fake smile faded.

"Ah know, Ingles." Domino mumbled, "but what's de other stuff for, ya? What'choo be wantin' wit' White Claudia? You...hooked on it, Ingles?"

Vincent's knuckles turned white and his face contorted with fury.

"Don't toy with me, Domino, I am in no mood...I'm in a hurry."

"Yah, yah, Ingles...you an dat band o' monkeys is gonna stop 'dis "Gozer."

Vincent turned white. "H...How did you know..."

Monsignor Domino laughed loud and long. "No secrets here, Ingles. Everybody know about wass' goin' down. Dey all tink dat there's no worries. Fortune tellers be sayin' dat Gozer's never gonna arrive. Baron Samehdi say "Let 'im come."

Vincent was silent for a moment.

"Do you have the merchandise?" Vincent said, still lost in thought.

"My price 'as doubled to fifteen dubloons."

"WHAT?" Vincent shouted in protest, "We agreed on seven dubloons and ten reales!"

Monsignor Domino stood up to his full height. "Dat stuff not easy to come by, Ingles! You lucky I even get it for you at all! De only place to get it anymore is de one place dat no sane wizards ever gonna go. Dis is de last I got...my contact no send it no more. Last I 'erd from 'im was over t'ree years ago."

Both men remained silent. Domino drew in a breath, and leaned over the counter, and his massive bulk made the counter creak. "I no like you, Ingles...you deal wit' some wicked wanga. You even beat ol' Mardi Gras Chalmette at 'is own game. You even 'ad Baron Samehdi 'imself choose YOU as 'is horse...but'choo buck 'im off...Why, Ingles? WHY? Why you do what'choo do?"

Vincent glowered at him. "My business is my own...Eight dubloons, and ten reales."

"Twelve dubloons!" Monsignor bellowed.

"Nine dubloons, five reales..."

Monsignor glared at him.

"I wonder what de Hermetic Order would tink of you havin' White Claudia in your posession, Ingles...?" Monsignor grinned sadistically, "SIXTEEN dubloons...pay up or get ou'dda my shop."

Vincent pulled a small crystal orb out of his front pocket and waved it in front of Domino's face. Domino saw an image inside the orb...Domino saw himself in a graveyard...digging up graves, and stuffing dead bodies into burlap sacks.

"I wonder," Vincent said, scratching his chin and speaking in a mock jamaican accent, "what de aut'orities would tink about'choo diggin' up de graveyards of Salem?"

Domino slammed his huge fist into the counter, causing a very large crack to appear in the wood.

"Baron Samehdi take you, you scandelous Ingles warlock!" Domino roared.

"Nine dubloons, and ten reales." Vincent sneered, "Hell, I'll even throw in six pieces of eight."

Monsignor stood up to his full height again, and turned to walk into the back room.

"Meet me in de pumpkin patch in five minutes." Domino grumbled.

* * *

**10:47PM England **

* * *

Ben stared at his glass for a moment before looking up at Peter Venkman and Robert Griffeths. He was impressed that they were on their third bottle of 'Old Roger', but it was evident that their drinking contest had led to their being pretty badly hammered.

"...Time Egon got drunk" Venkman was slurring.

"The Prof?" Robert slurred back incredulously. "Hard imagining that, Mate...how'd you manage that?"

"Wasn't me, I swear..." Venkman giggled back. "Some businessman was makin' time with with his wife...course that was twelve years before they got married, but still..."

Ben looked back at his glass and downed the rest of his Stella, he'd decided to simply nurse the drink over the evening as they needed someone to drive them back to the HQ. To Ben's left Eric was taking a drink from his glass of Tiger before resuming his conversation with Joey, they seemed to be debating the principals the Microsoft X-Box versus the Sony Playstation.

Ben smiled as he scanned the pub. It had been some time since he'd really been down the Pub and enjoyed himself. He decided then and there, that whenever the original GBUK line up were operating the 'Day Shift' and were off duty, he'd try head down to the local with Iain, Tommy and Roger more often just to have a few pints and relax. Ben studied his watch, it was a quarter to ten that evening and they had to be finishing up soon. He looked up as he saw Harrison step over to a pillar at one of the corners of the bar and he rang a old brass ship's bell that hung from a metal support mount drilled into the wooden pillar.

"Time, Ladies and Gentlemen. Last Orders."

"Dosh anyone whant anyt'ing elsh?" Peter slurred.

"I think we'd better..._hic_...jush have a coke." Robert replied, taking a moment to steady himself.

"I'm fine." Ben replied, watching Peter and Robert with amusement.

"We're..." Eric paused before finishing his glass, which had happened to be his second glass of Tiger. "Done." He set the glass down.

"Me too." Joey replied.

"Okay...I'll be right back..." Peter replied, he then stood up from the table, and to his credit, seemed to work with a lot of stability while sauntering over to the bar. "Two cokes, pleash." He asked, making sure he actually held up two fingers.

* * *

**England 11:21PM**

* * *

Ben King Sr. walked to the dark kitchen and yawned sleepily. It looked like most of the others have decided to turn in for the night, or have gone out to have some fun to try and forget about the evening's tragedy. He walked over to the refridgerator and opened it, bathing the dark kitchen in a dull white light. He fished out a bottle of Guiness from the bottom shelf and twisted the top off and reflexively tossed it in the direction of the garbage can, hearing the small metallic sound of the cap bouncing off the wall before it fell into the trash can.

As he took his first sip of the thick, dark beer, he noticed a small sound. it was a sound he didn't even notice until now. It was a sniffling sound, and of labored breathing. It was the sound of a woman gently crying in the dark. He went to turn on the kitchen light, but a voice stopped him.

"No..." said the broken voice of Jill Valentine, "...No lights, please."

"As you wish, hon," Ben mumbled, remembering all too clear the previous events of the evening, "you want to talk about it?"

"No." Jill stated plainly.

"Okay," Ben said in the dark, "well, this old man's just going to sit down, and enjoy his nightcap by candlelight at the table. If anyone should talk to him, he just won't listen."

Ben sat down at the table and lit a small candle, only slightly illuminating the room. He took another sip of his beer and looked across the table at the silhouette of Jill. Small features of her face flickered in the candlelight. He looked away, and rested his arm on the table as he sat "side-saddle" in the chair.

"How could he say that to me?" Ben heard Jill's voice ask him.

"How can you even believe that he meant that?" Ben asked her softly.

"I've seen Vincent become angry, he does it alot...but...never to me...never..." she said with a quivering voice, "...he just...totally..."

"I know Vincent pretty well," Ben mused, "and if there's one thing I learned about him, is that he gets angry with two things...ignorance, and disappointment. He sets people to high standards, and expects them to do their best, and he is often disappointed...especially when it involves people who should know better. He's often said that he doesn't blame people for their mistakes, but he does ask that they pay for them."

Ben sat in silence for only a moment, and continued.

"Another thing that dissapoints him, is oddly enough, himself. If he places others to high standards, he places himself to impossible ones. He's dissapointed with himself when he loses control of a situation. When he is at a loss to solve a problem, or he feels that he can't protect those who can't protect themselves, he gets angry with himself. He just never really gets that he's only one man."

"Granted, he can come and go at will, and he can do things that most consider unnatural," he chuckled, "but he IS a wizard, you know, but he can't do everything. All he should really focus on is doing what he can, and believe me, that's MORE than enough. He gets angry because he feels responsible...it's his creed that _everything_ is his responsibility, and that is running him ragged."

Jill wiped at her eyes, and her tears renewed.

"I wish none of this ever happened to us," she sobbed quietly, "I wish we could live a normal life, and not have to worry about..."

Ben looked at her and smiled, his eyes shining in the candlelight.

"So do ALL who come to see such times, but that is not for them to decide..." Ben recited in his own "fatherly" tone, "...what is for them to decide is what to do with the time that is given to them."

Jill stopped crying, and dried her eyes. Ben smiled.

"It was Vincent who told me _that_, Jill, and he's right. I heard it from the lips of another wise but fictitious wizard in a Hollywood film, but when Vincent told me, I actually believed it."

Jill looked up at Ben and sighed. Ben reached accross the table and patted her hand, and got up from the table.

"Now, you dry your eyes, and know that Vincent is looking out for you. He's left to seek the answer to our problems." Ben said as he took another sip of his beer and walked to the kitchen.

"Vincent left? He left without saying goodbye?" Jill asked, slightly hurt.

Ben chuckled, "don't worry, hon. He most likely didn't say goodbye because he plans on being back shortly...and didn't want to upset you."

"But..." Jill protested.

"I won't hear another word of it," Ben said as he smiled, "go get some rest. You'll be the first to know when he returns, I promise."

Ben left the kitchen, and walked towards his own room. Jill sat in the kitchen for only moments after she heard Ben's door close.

_Thanks, Ben._ Jill thought, _I think I'll go to bed. I'll be patient, and I'll see him in my dreams._

Jill stood up, and took the candle with her out of the kitchen. The hallways illuminated with a dull glow as she reached the bedroom door. The last thing heard in the building that night, was the audible click of the door to Vincent and Jill's room closing.

* * *

**7:30pm, Arcane Alley, Salem **

* * *

Vincent glanced down at the leather satchel that hung on his shoulder, then at the two vials in his hand. In his left, was the bottle of the herbal concoction "Aglopholis." It was crimson in color, and small chunks of the red leaf floated around inside. The bottle in his right hand was filled with a fine white powder.

"White Claudia," Vincent mused, "this stuff makes cocaine look tame. I'd better not be seen with this."

With that, Vincent wrapped his hands around the bottle, and wrung his hands. The bottle seemed to be swallowed up by his hands and disappeared entirely. He stuffed the bottle of Aglopholis into his satchel.

Vincent pushed open the door of the shop in front of him. He drew in some deep breaths, taking in the sweet smells of the inscence wafting out of the shop. He chuckled at the various signs in the shop, which were written in Mandarin Chinese, and underneath in English. He fingered through the various talismans that hung on small displays, and admired the dragon statuettes. The silver, gold, and jade that was in this place was worth a fortune. He passed a shelf with more than a hundred stones, powders, inscence candle sticks, and reagents. The smell made his nose sting.

"Well, if it isn't Dr. Belmont!" called a gruff, but aged asian voice from across the counter.

"How are you, Egg?" asked Vincent, picking up a few inscence sticks, and considering picking up a couple of fingers of Jade.

"Things are a bit slow right now," Egg Shen replied. He removed his small black hat and puffed on his pipe. "This Gozer thing has business at a bit of a standstill. Even though all of the fortunes say that Gozer will never step foot on Earth, no one will do any shopping! Mr. Wing next door has closed up entirely and just sits in his private sanctum in his basement with his managerie."

Vincent approached the counter, carrying some selected items. He even picked up a dragon inscence burner.

"Do you know how to use a that dragon inscense burner?" Shen asked, pointing at it with his pipe.

"Yeah, you light the end of it," Vincent chuckled, getting a look of stern bemusement from Egg Shen, "Kidding, Egg, kidding...if you'll recall, my first magics I learned were Alchemy and Chinese Black Magic. I was taught those by Master ZhuZhen Liu."

Egg Shen smiled, and his eyes brightened. "Ahhhhh!" he exclaimed, thrusting his index finger into the air. He turned around and walked into the back room. "I almost forgot! Master ZhuZhen left something for you the other day."

Shen returned with a small brown package wrapped in a length of hemp. Vincent eyed it closely, and then placed it in his satchel.

"How is Master ZhuZhen?" Vincent asked, placing his purchase on the counter.

"He's gone with Dr. Lao to Shanghai. It looks like there's a bit of trouble brewing in China. Master ZhuZhen is certain that you will see to the situation at hand. He also tells me to give you this to give to your friend Mr. Inugami..." Shen fished out a small silver crucifix necklace and placed it in Vincent's hand. "Zhuzhen says that it belonged to his anscestor."

"I'll give it to him" Vincent said, slightly befuddled about it. He walked away from the counter to a shelf of vials, and began taking all of the vials off the shelf, loading his arms with them.

"Quick question, Egg," Vincent asked, placing the last vial under his chin as he carefully walked over to the counter again, "Do you know anything about the Staff of Merlin?"

Egg Shen shook his head as he puffed away on his pipe.

"Oh," Vincent said with a tone of disappointment. He opened his arms slowly, allowing the vials to drop safely onto the counter, "I was hoping to find some information on it."

"What is all this?" Shen exclaimed, as Vincent placed a handful of crystals from a nearby bowl onto the counter, "You plan on doing some powerful magic? You plan on taking on all of the Oni in hell?" Shen chuckled, and gestured to all of the items Vincent had on the counter.

"I'm stocking up for the coming days ahead. It's ammunition for the battle. We have to stop Gozer from coming here." Vincent said, more solemnly, "and it looks like I've just bought your entire stock of your special "elixir."

Egg Shen scratched his beard and puffed on his pipe. He pushed away the bag of coins that Vincent dropped in front of him, and began to place everything in Vincent's satchel.

"No," he grunted, "this is my donation to your cause."

"But," Vincent protested, "well...thanks...but the incense burner is for me personally..."

Egg Shen walked from around the counter, and placed the satchel on Vincent's shoulder, stuffing in the Jade dragon. Shen chuckled, and pushed him towards the door. "Bah! I'll put it on your tab...get over to the Green Dragon. I hear someone is looking for you."

Vincent turned around as he pushed open the door. "Thanks for everything, Egg."

Egg Shen waved from the door as Vincent walked out into Arcane Alley square. "Give them hell for me, Vincent, and remember me when you run out of Dragon Powder!"

* * *

**9:45pm, Arcane Alley, Salem**

* * *

The Green Dragon tavern was alive with activity, as per the usual at night. The dining area was a variable sea of pointed hats as the wizards had their nightly meal. Vincent glanced at one wizard who was offering food his familiar, a rather old and matted ferret, with his own fork. Still another couple of wizards were exchanging punchlines to some rather dirty jokes. Vincent even flinched when a large red puff of smoke erupted from a table as he walked by. The warlock sitting there waved the smoke out of his face, mumbling "sorry 'bout that."

Vincent approached the bar and rapped on the counter loudly. The bartender lumbered out of the back room. He was an ox of a man, standing well over six and a half feet tall, and almost three feet wide, with arms as big as tree trunks. Vincent was unsure of his age, but from the looks of him, Vincent guessed he was approaching 90. His head seemed shrunken, sitting on top of his monstrous shoulders, and his small beard twitched as he smiled.

"The usual, little man?" he grunted.

"You know me, Lucius," Vincent chuckled as he scanned the interior of the tavern, "say, Lucius. Have you seen Gabe?"

Lucius scratched at his beard as his face contorted, as if trying to recall something that happened a decade ago. "Can't say that I have, Slim, but someone left a message for ya." Lucius reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a black envelope with "Belmont" written in red cursive script. "Looks a might fishy to me, sonny.

Vincent turned over the envelope after it was handed to him and broke open the wax seal on the back. Vincent caught a whiff of Sulphur as he drew out the letter. Lucius raised one eyebrow suspiciously and ambled off, mumbling "I think I'll get you that drink now."

Vincent read the letter silently to himself.

_Son of the Belmont Clan, _

_I am waiting for you in the far corner of the tavern. Your request has been heard, and your order has been processed. We may now discuss terms of payment. _

_Forever Damned,  
Renon _

Vincent took his drink and wandered past all of the tables and to the dimly lit booths in the back room. As he approached, the chatter of his fellow wizards, the music, the warm light, and the very life of the room seemed to diminish with every step he took towards the darkest of the booths. Vincent slid into one of the far booth seats as darkness engulfed him completely, and the loud and boisterous tavern was nothing more than a smattering of whispers.

Across the table, a face loomed into view. The face could almost be described as plain, except for his cold expression. His facial stubble, as well as the shadows around him, seemed to thicken as he smiled devilishly. His small green bowler sat upon his head, and his mirrored shades never betrayed his sinister nature. He tugged on the collar of his business suit as he spoke Vincent's name, pausing slightly between each word.

"Vincent ... Abraham ... Belmont." he seemed to hiss.

Vincent sat staring, saying not one word.

"Well, I am here, Master Belmont..." his voice oozed. His smile broadened.

"I am not your master, Renon, and you came of your own accord." Vincent growled.

"How very astute, young Master Belmont," he grinned, "nothing gets by you. Yes, I came of my own accord. When I heard that you were in need of something very..._rare_...I couldn't help but wonder what it is that you were looking for. As for the _other_ thing...well, let's say that everything is all there."

Vincent scowled. "You were listening in, weren't you? You were there the entire time."

Renon took a sip of a thick red liquid from a gold teacup. Vincent didn't even want to know what it was. "I was away on business, Master Belmont. However, I have my sources." Renon sniffed, "the bottom line, is that the Ghostbusters are going...to _WAR_."

Vincent stared intently at Renon as he sipped away at his teacup.

"Ahhh...still warm..." Renon mused, "I like it like that." He sat back into the shadows, and only his folded hands could be seen on the table. He waved his left hand, and a black briefcase floated onto the table, and opened by itself. Inside, a fist-sized glass orb sat in the black velvet lining of the case. Inside the globe, a mulit-colored hue swirled within it. Yet, despite its eerie glow, it did nothing to push back the black shadows of the booth. Vincent looked up to see only the orb's light mirrored in Renon's glasses.

"All five Hermetic elements are contained within this crystal orb. I think it contains enough pure matter to suit your needs." Renon explained, his tone becoming friendlier, but no less unsettling.

Vincent touched the orb, and looked up again. "How much?"

"I think 7000 sounds about right...after all, you wouldn't believe the strings I had to pull to get ahold of it." Renon said.

"Seven _THOUSAND_?" Vincent hissed, "that's robbery!"

Renon merely shrugged, and shook his head.

Vincent set a small leather purse on the table. There was an audible jingle of metal coins inside.

"Greedy bastard. You know this is about 5 years of savings..."

Renon chuckled as he snapped his fingers. The bag vanished in a puff of flame, and the sickening odor of sulphur. "The orb is yours, Master Belmont. I appreciate your business. I will have it delivered to England, along with your message."There was a small ringing sound as Renon produced a gold pocketwatch. He opened it, and stared at it.

"Anything else, Master Belmont? It appears I have a brand new customer."

Vincent was silent for only a moment, but spoke up when Renon put away his watch. "Ever hear of the Staff of Merlin?"

Renon looked almost shocked, but sipped again at his drink and smiled. "Why, yes, I have. You have an interest in it?"

"Don't tell me it's for sale.." Vincent stammered, looking quite taken back.

Renon laughed, and his cackle sent a shiver down Vincent's spine. "Oh, mercy, no!" he chuckled, "but what a price THAT would fetch! Seriously, though, I can't get it for you directly, but I can point you in the right direction...you Belmonts have been one of my top customers over the centuries..."

Renon grinned from ear to ear. Vincent's hand slowly reached for his pocket. Before Renon could speak, Vincent slammed a silver coin onto the table.

"What's THAT for?" Renon asked.

"Payment," Vincent said in a cold voice, "I would never risk an I.O.U. to someone like you. I trust you as far as I can throw you with a lame arm."

Renon's eyes pierced the darkness with a bright red hue. His hands folded tightly, and Vincent could see his knuckles go white. Renon's voice grew inhuman for a moment, and the fury in his voice was unmistakable.

"Very...astute...Belmont..." he hissed. Vincent only smiled.

Renon's voice was friendly as ever, as if the last words to leave his lips were never spoken. "Visit the owner of Henson and Hurt's arcane booksellers," Renon said with a bright smile, "Mr. Hurt is known for being quite the storyteller. He might know where the Staff may be."

Renon placed a hand on the briefcase, and shut it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another customer waiting...it has been a pleasure, as always." With that, Renon disappeared, and the darkness left with him. The light, the noise, and the warmth of the tavern returned, placing Vincent at ease. He looked around him, and saw Lucius standing over him. A very frightened waitress was cowering behind him, glancing at Vincent with accusing eyes.

Lucius glared at Vincent. "I think it'd be best if you left for awhile, son." Lucius said, coldly, "Just get out, and I won't tell the Quaesitors what you were just talking to...you missed your friend. He said he'd talk to you later. He just left you this." With that, Lucius handed him a large paper package, by the feel of it, Vincent guessed it was his great grandfather's jacket inside.

Vincent took the package and nodded, quickly leaving the bar.

Vincent hastily ripped off the paper wrap on the package and donned the long black duster, he threw his black fedora on hastily and stopped only momentarily to look at himself in the reflection of the Green Dragon's windows. He was startled by the sounds of heavy footsteps marching down the alleyway. They were perfect, and rhythmic, as if a platoon of soldiers were marching towards the tavern.

"Quaesitors..." Vincent mumbled to himself.

Five tall wizards dressed in black flowing robes, and wearing black cowls that hid their faces came into view, marching in perfect formation quickly towards the tavern. Vincent pulled down the brim of his hat, hiding his features as they strode past and into the front doors.

"Hit wizards?" Vincent thought to himself nervously, "Why hit wizards?"

He quickly strode down the streets, and broke into a jog. He neared the end of the alleyway and looked out into the main street. All of the shops were abandoned and empty. The windows were shuttered, and signs hung on the doors in clear red letters: "Closed."Vincent's heart began to race when he saw another group of black-clad wizards standing in the streets, their staves lit up radiantly at their tips, scouring the streets; looking for someone...for him.

Vincent nearly lept out of his skin when he felt something nudge the back of his leg. He whipped his wand out of his jacket and pointed it at the offender, with an oft-repeated spell about to leave his lips. He found himself staring at the frightened face of...

...a dog.

"Hey!" the dog hissed, "Watch it with that thing! You could have done some real damage to me, and the Quaesitors would have you for sure!" it whispered.

Vincent was speechless. It took him a few seconds to register "talking dog" into the long catalogue of weird things he'd encountered over his lifetime, and he lowered the wand.

"Come on," the dog whispered again, "my master sent me to get you. He's waiting for us right now. We need to get you indoors, before..."

Vincent's heart skipped a beat as he heard one of the black clad wizards speak. "Did you hear that?" one of them spoke, "over there..."

The dog began running down the opposite end of the alleyway. Vincent wasted no time in following the strange dog through the twists and turns of the back alleys, some of them being no wider than a few feet. Vincent could hardly see through the darkness, but he ran anyway, trying to make his footsteps as soft as possible. He dared not risk using any form of light for fear of being found.

The dog stopped at the end of an alley leading out to the main road. It peered out sheepishly, walking out slowly, it's tail curled up between its legs. Vincent followed suit, and looked out into the main street. It was completely abandoned. Across the street, stood a very large antique storefront. A large sign hung from the second floor, reading "_Henson and Hurt Arcane Booksellers_" in colorful, flowery lettering.

"This way" the dog whispered as it darted across the street. Vincent looked both ways again before running to the storefront across the street. Vincent almost stopped short when he realized that the door to the shop was opening. An elderly face peeked out from behind the door. The door opened, and the dog ran inside. Vincent saw the old man behind the door ushering him in. He was a man in his late seventies. His thin and jowled face was pale and drawn. His large knobby nose, and feathered cloak made him appear to be some enormous bird. The creases of his face illumanated with the small candle he held in his hand. His eyes were intense as he stared at Vincent, as if he were a hawk, sizing up his wasted no time stepping inside.

The old man locked the door behind him. He turned around to look Vincent eye to eye. The old man's face twisted into a smile. "Good," the old man said, "you're here."

"Mr. Duncan Hurt, I presume?" Vincent asked in a voice barely audible.

"The same," Duncan said, "and I see that you've met Brian."

"Who is Brian?" Vincent asked as Duncan led him through the shop. Duncan turned to Vincent, staring at him as if Vincent had just said something absurd.

"The dog." Duncan stated as he and Vincent continued their trek through the shop.

Henson and Hurt's Arcane Booksellers was a store that put most bookstores to shame. The store seemed even larger on the inside. All of the woodwork in the store was of finely-polished oak, and the upholstery was of the finest red velvet. The bookshelves were so high that Vincent could not see the top of them in the candle's dim illumination. Stacks of tomes piled up high on small carts, some of them stacked sideways and diagonally, defying the laws of physics. Vincent walked past hundreds of tomes, shelved alphabetically by title, some of the names written in foreign languages. Small black signs in gold lettering marked the sections of the shelves, with subjects such as "Alchemy" and "Magical History." They walked past glass cases with numerous scrolls, some of them appeared to be hundreds of years old.

Beyond the store, Duncan led Vincent and his dog through the laquered and decorated hallways and up a grand set of winding stairs. On the second floor hallway, he led them to a small sitting room lit by a crackling fire. Duncan took off his feathery cloak and hung it on a rosewood coat hanger. He replaced the cloak that hung over him with a red velvet smoking jacket. Vincent followed suit by taking off his coat and hat and placed them on the coat rack. Duncan sat down in a very large chair, and waved for Vincent to sit in the chair next to him.

"Well?" Duncan said, expectantly, "sit!"

Vincent took a moment to admire the oppulence of Mr. Hurt's sitting room. It was quite obvious that he was a VERY rich man.

Duncan clapped his hands twice, and a small silver tea set floated over to the table next to him and started preparing tea on its own. Vincent almost forgot that he was fleeing the Quaesitors, and admired the small wonders of Duncan's home. Duncan handed Vincent a small ceramic teacup. Vincent sipped at it, and his body relaxed as the sweet nectar he tasted warmed his body.

"Now," said Duncan, bringing Vincent out of his trance, "down to business."

"Why are hit wizards after me?" Vincent blurted out.

"Why?" Duncan asked, suprised that Vincent could be so oblivious, ''Good Dr. Belmont, you should KNOW why. You consorted with one of the damned this night, and that is a crime...oh yes...very bad indeed. Now, even though you did so for a greater good, now they have something on you."

"They?" Vincent asked as he took another sip.

"Yes, they." Duncan said as he grabbed a poker from a metal basket near his chair and prodded the logs on the fire. The dog, Brian, curled up on a rug in front of the fire."We all know about the movement of that deplorable cultus of Zildrohar. The problem is, that there are a couple members in our order whom we've suspected of being part of it. The problem is, we have no proof."

"Why the hit wizards?" Vincent asked again.

"They mean to take you out, Vincent, and they're doing so _legally_. They have you for a crime, and if they can arrest you, and subject you to a tribunal, then you are out of the way."

"How did they know so quickly?" Vincent asked.

Duncan sipped his tea as he sighed. "They've been watching you for a _long time_. The Quaesitors are not supposed to spy on each other, but...someone's given the orders to spy on you, and now they have you for a crime. Until we find out who's on this cult's payroll, all we can do is hide you."

Vincent set down the cup. He lowered his head, shamed at what he's done. "Look, I know what I did was wrong, but why are you even hiding me? I committed a willing crime, regardless of intent."

Duncan set down his cup and leaned over to Vincent, speaking in hushed whispers, as if they were being watched.

"Now that's the trick, isn't it?" Duncan whispered, "your family has been nothing but a boon to battling evil for centuries, when Lord Leon Belmont commited his line to battling the children of the night during the Crusades. When he took that blood oath with his beloved, Sarah, he empowered the Belmont clan with that special something...that edge. All of his descendants; Trevor, Simon, Christopher, Juste, Richter, and countless other Belmonts have followed in his footsteps. You, my young friend, have followed, as well. You have a wonderful track record, Vincent, and the Magus Dominus has overlooked your more "shady" dealings with that demon, Renon. After all, it wasn't even YOU that signed that hellish contract. It was one of your family before you, though, once removed from the Belmont name; Reinhardt Schneider. I find it almost humorous that you also have wizard blood ties, as well. Young Carrie Fernandez, who fought alongside Reinhardt against Dracula in 1852, married a Belmont. Now, she was a descendant of Sypha Balnades, a powerful sorceress that helped Trevor Belmont defeat Dracula in 1476..."

"This is all interesting, Duncan," Vincent protested, "but what's that got to do with..."

"Oh, sorry," Duncan chuckled, "I do go on with my stories...anyway, the point is that the Magus Dominus has overlooked all of that because of who you are, and who your family is. We know that your intentions are pure, and we are willing to aid you."

"Why doesn't the Magus Dominus contact me himself?" Vincent mused, "what's stopping him from from stepping in?"

"He too, is being watched," Duncan said, with his voice carrying an ominous tone that almost seemed like he was embellishing for show, "he doesn't want to endanger you by contacting you directly, that's why he left that job to others. Now, what I'M wondering, is why you're here...the rumormill is spinning that you are in search of something important."

"Yes...the Staff of Merlin."

The room was quiet, as Duncan sat back in his chair. he mused for a moment.

"Why would you need such a powerful artifact?" Duncan inquired, "and even if you found it, what would you do with it?"

Vincent looked at Duncan. The old man's face went stern, as if Vincent were being scrutinized. Duncan folded his hands, silent; expecting an answer, of which Vincent had none. He thought long and hard, thinking about his plan, and of his friends. He thought about his outburst at the England headquarters, and of his injuring Adam in anger, and his harsh words even to his beloved.

"I wish I could do many things with it," Vincent answered, solemnly, "but all I can do with it is do what I can."

Duncan smiled.

"Then, let's hope that is enough."

Duncan prodded at the logs in the fire again.

"Truth is, young Belmont, that no one knows exactly where the Staff of Merlin resides...because no one knows where the man himself passed on. I only remember a poem about Merlin, and that is the only possible clue I could give you. The tricky part is, figuring out that clue."

_**"Across the sea of dreams, lies a castle of Gold,  
where the circle of justice, a council will hold.  
Beyond the forest of Oberon, to Camelot's gates,  
The guardian and councellor, Merlin awaits.  
Deep in the mountain, the enchanter doth sleep,  
Awaiting a brother to office, keep.  
His sign of office, he shall give,  
That in selfless valor, others may live.  
To fight the shadow that seeks to defile,  
To keep the safety of the emerald isle." **_

"So, Merlin died in Avalon?" Vincent asked.

"Perhaps," Duncan mused, "but many people have tried to reach Avalon, and they have failed. No one knows where it is."

"Well, obviously, it's an island," Vincent said, "the only question is where it might be."

"Well," Duncan said as he rose from his chair, "there might be a way to do that...if you are willing to risk it. Other wizards have had the foolish idea to go off searching for Merlin's fabled wand, but many have never been heard from again."

Vincent stood as well. "The safety of Earth is at stake again, and it's my job to take risks to ensure its safety."

"Very well," Duncan sighed, as he strode to one of the room's bookcases. He plucked out a scroll from one of the shelves and handed it to Vincent. "This contains a spell of travel upon the waters. It is a very dangerous spell, as you must know how to word it. Unfortunately, many wizards have become lost, and never seen again due to this spell."

Vincent took the scroll, and looked at it nervously.

"How could a spell like this get you lost if you state clearly where you want to go?" Vincent asked.

"Perhaps," Duncan thought aloud, "just perhaps that it is a spell that doesn't take you to where you WANT to go, but rather where you NEED to be..."

Vincent looked at the fire, and stood in silence. He looked down at the ancient parchment in his hands and made his decision. Vincent grabbed his hat and coat from the coathanger, and put them on. Duncan, following Vincent's lead put on his cloak and grabbed a walking stick from behind the door, and turning around only to tell the dog, "Stay, boy." Without so much as an exchange of words, Vincent and Duncan left the building.

* * *

F32136-60504y  
053


	11. June 7, 2004 Part 1

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge,

and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

* * *

**June 7th, 2004  
One Day Until the End of the World  
England 12:00am **

* * *

Iain awoke with a start. There was a commotion outside his bedroom door. He looked to his bedstand and saw that his PKE meter was on, and that its indicator needle was at the top. The running lights on the device lit up the room. Iain grabbed the PKE meter as he ran out his bedroom door when he heard shouting.

The form of Roger Kennedy flew past Iain in a blur. Looking down the hall, Iain saw that Roger was, in fact, following Egon. Both looked as though they too, were rudely awakened from their slumber. Iain stopped Ben King Sr, who had also joined the chase.

"What's going on?" he asked frantically, "are you reading this?" Iain gasped. "Yeah," Ben stammered as Fritz Baugh, Jeff Nash, and Peter Venkman ran past them, "I don't know what's going on, but it looks like it's coming from Belmont's office!"

Iain and Ben joined in the chase down the hall. Their hearts racing almost as fast as their feet as they sped down the dark hallways.

"Get the packs!" he heard Roger bark ahead. Iain heard the sounds of scuffling and dragging equipment from behind them, as several other Ghostbusters joined them.

Iain and Ben rounded the corner to Belmont's office, and stopped short as they saw the others gathered outside of the office door. All of them were breathing heavily. They listened to the last few chimes of Vincent's office clock through the door as the clock struck midnight. Iain looked again at his PKE meter. It was silent, as if there wasn't a ghost around for miles. Ben looked at him, at a loss for words. A few questioning glances were exchanged among the crowd of sleepy pajama-wearing Ghostbusters.

"Anybody else reading anything?" Roger whispered back.

Everyone shook their heads.

Egon hesitantly opened the door and looked inside cautiously. He strolled into the room, bewildered. Vincent's office was untouched, save for a small crystal orb sitting on the desk, with a brown package underneath. A note was attatched to the side. As the rest of the Ghostbusters filed in, Egon looked around suspiciously, and grabbed the note. He read it aloud.

_The buyer of this object has assured me that one "Dr. Spengler" knows what to do with it. Do not drop it, treat it carefully. The second object is a set of materials needed for another project that, again, this "Dr. Spengler" is aware of. Use in good health.  
~R _

"Who's "R?" Jeff asked.

"I don't know," Egon mused, uneasy.

"Boy, is it cold in here..." Roger muttered as he folded his arms.

"Yer wearin' boxers, mate..." Iain stated, matter-of-factly. Roger only shrugged. "It is a might chilly in here, though," Iain muttered, finding himself agreeing with Roger after all.

"What's that smell?" Ben asked, sniffing the air.

"Wasn't me..." Adam Bestler said immediately, squeezing himself into the now crowded office. "Sulphur?" Fritz wondered aloud, looking around the room. Everyone stared back at him, all of them shared the same uneasy expressions.

* * *

**Salem, Massachusets, 3:45 am **

* * *

The pier in Arcane Alley was almost completely lifeless. Great wooden galleons sat empty, moored in the port. A great fog enshrouded the docks, casting eerie shadows. Vincent and Duncan walked through the dense curtain of mist, making their way to a small gondola. Vincent tossed in his satchel immediately and started to untie the rope binding the boat to the harbor.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Duncan asked.

"Certain," Vincent said, "every moment I waste here is a moment that could bring us closer to doom."

Vincent kicked the boat out into the water and quickly hopped in. He grabbed the oar fixed to the rear of the gondola and immediately started rowing out further into the waters. he turned around for one last look at Mr. Duncan Hurt, standing on the docks. Mr. Hurt was waving at him.

"God speed, young Belmont!" he shouted, "may the waters fare thee well!"

Vincent waved back to Duncan as he disappeared from view. The small craft cut through the waters, and the fog weaved around Vincent and his boat as he heard the waters slap lightly against the gondola. He rowed several times, alowing the boat to drift out into the open waters. He could barely see the front of his own boat let alone anything beyond it. It was growing dark...gone was the comfort of Arcane Alley's street lamps, and renewed was the bitter eldritch cold he felt travelling through the astral roads to Arcane Alley itself. He breathed deeply, and pulled out the scroll to examine it. He squinted through his quickly fogging glasses and picked apart what he needed from the fading ink of the Latin scrawled on the scroll.

He breathed deeply, and spoke his spell aloud: **"Vocate venti fortunate ex rege Oberonis et hic navis flugem regate ad orae Avalonis."**

His voiced echoed, and trailed off into the gloom.

* * *

**10:01AM **

* * *

Ben King Jr logged onto the franchise's Hotmail Inbox like he had done twice each day for the past week...and like he'd been finding regularly at present, the inbox would have at least one new email every two days...and once again there was a message, however this time it was from the head office in New York.

"Hmm." Ben mused and opened the email, the message read:

_To:  
From: _

_Subject: GBI Chat request _

_Guys, _

_We need to hold a web conference tonight...around 12 our time...some stuff's come up concerning Louis and Dana...stuff that you guys need to know...we're aiming to get onto the system at around 12:00-12:20...so that'll be something like 5:00-5:20 this afternoon...email me if that time is no good because I will be taking no reply as a sign that you can get on then. _

_-Talk to you guys soon.  
Ray."_

With the message read, Ben got up from his seat and ran to Iain's Lab. [ [ hr ] ] In the lab, Iain was busy packing several supplies into a rucksack for another round of searches while Fritz, Jeff and Egon transcribed more of the book which was nearly half translated.

"Iain...Professor Spengler...Dr Stantz has sent us a message...he wants to hold a conference over the new chat software from GBI." Ben King Jr reported.

"When?" Egon asked.

"Tonight." Ben replied.

* * *

**2:25 PM, New York **

* * *

"Well, well, well..." Garrett Miller said loudly. "If it isn't the famous Doctor Roland Jackson, Ghostbusting hero of millions..."

Roland, having just opened the door to Ghostbusters Central, rolled his eyes and set his duffel bag down on the floor of the firehouse. Eduardo and Kylie, who'd been trying to provoke a smile out of Rose, looked up and signalled their own greetings.

"Muchacho..." Eduardo said, high-fiving him. "So how were things in Tahiti? Lots of chicas, huh?"

Kylie rolled her eyes and told her daughter "Ignore your father, Rose. He's off in Macho Land again..."

Just two weeks before, Roland had attained his PhD in Electrical Engineering. Venkman had surprised him with a vacation in Tahiti to celebrate. _"Even though I won't be there with you, and of course Tahiti without Venkman is disgusting..." _

"I won't complain. Eddie, is the Professor here?"

"He's in England on business." Garrett responded. "Don't change the subject."

Roland made a dismissive noise of his own, and went over to the reception desk. "Where's Janine?"

"The lights flashed a few minutes ago, so she ran up stairs to see what the gremlins were doing..." Garrett replied simply.

Janine appeared, dragging her son by the arm, her daughter close behind. "How may times has your father told you not to try and put aluminum in the microwave? This reminds me of the time you tried to blow yourself up!" Winston was behind the Spenglers, looking like he couldn't decide whether to laugh or offer his own parental advice.

"That would've worked if you hadn't stopped me!" John replied with defiant sulkiness.

Eden saw an opportunity to redirect the conversation: "Doctor Jackson!"

It worked. Janine looked up. "Hey! Look who's back! Roland, I'll talk to you later in the afternoon-I'm taking these two over to get some lunch. And some Ritalin." She added with sarcastic exasperation.

"I'll see you in a little while, Mrs. S." Roland nodded as the threesome left.

Winston waved goodbye to his old friend and turned to look at his newer comrades. "I'll be upstairs if you need me-Ray will be by later to compare notes with Egon and the other guys in England."

"You're...on duty tonight?" Roland asked, suddenly wary.

"Yeah. Problem with that, Doctor Jackson?"

"Of course not, Sir. Just...jet lag, I guess..."

Winston shrugged and went upstairs.

"How's little Rosey today?" Roland said, going over to Kylie and Rose. "Gonna smile for Uncle Roland?"

"Good luck." Kylie sniffed.

"We're not happy today?" Roland said in his best cutesy-wutesy voice. Rose just looked back at him like he was deranged.

"That kid's a lot grumpier than Chita was..." Roland noted, turning to Eduardo.

"Different kid. I mean, none of your like, what, three dozen brothers and sisters are exactly like you, right?"

"I only have six, Eddie. And calm down, it wasn't an insult-or intended as one, anyway. I was just saying Rose doesn't smile as much as Conchita did...and where is Conchita, anyway?"

There was the sound of the toilet flushing, and little Conchita came out of the restroom at the front of the garage.

"Ready for lunch, Chita?" Eduardo asked. Her face lit up.

"Yo quiero Taco Bell?" she asked, provoking a chuckle out of her mother.

"Now remember, Chita..." Eduardo said, picking her up. "Never say that around Yaya...she considers it a negative stereotype..."

"You guys think you can hold the place down for an hour?' Kylie asked them.

"Yeah." Roland agreed.

The assembled Rivera family left the building, leaving the two old friends alone.

"You were worried that Charlene was gonna be here, weren't you?" Garrett said, teasingly.

Roland's face darkened. "Listen, I told you before I left...she does not like me. In fact, she thinks I'm a flaky, nerdy spazzball..."

"Now what makes you say that?"

"Oh, I dunno...maybe the part where she called me a flaky, nerdy spazzball?"

"And you believed it?"

"She threw a basketball at my head!"

"Hey, I've hung around with a lot of athletic chicks, remember? That's how they show their affection..."

"She's my boss's daughter and she's not even twelve!"

Garrett laughed. "Okay. Now there's a problem..."

"I could ask you how things went with your rock climber while I was gone..."

"Don't change the subject!"

"What? You can tease me about twelve year-olds but your love life is off limits?"

"It was just one little date...it's not like we're gonna get married next week."

Roland adopted his own impression of Dr. Venkman's grin. "That sounds an awful lot like things went well..."

"Well, all I'm gonna say is that it wasn't our last date...and it didn't take me about, like, a year or two or seven to take her on it." With that, Roland Jackson and Garrett Miller laughed hard.

"I know...I know, Man...I'm sorry." Roland apologized. "I guess...I guess I look at Eduardo and Kylie, and their girls and...well, I feel just a little jealous."

"I know what you mean, Roland." Garrett agreed. "But don't forget you have something they don't-you stayed in school. You got a frickin' Doctorate, Jacko! You're Roland Jackson, P-H-D."

"I know..."

"And let me tell you, I think Eddie and Kylie are a little jealous of _that_. Kylie might have earned hers if not for the motherhood thing derailing her...so believe me, the 'grass is greener' feeling is mutual." Roland nodded.

"And the Professor...Dude, I don't think it will be until his own kids get their doctorates that he'll be any prouder of anyone. So...you know...for the two or three more years it takes for that to happen, bask in it..."

Another deep belly laugh was provoked.

"We're doing all right, aren't we?" Roland had to agree. "We don't have all the drama Eddie and Kylie did...or the Professor and Janine...or even Doctor Venkman and his wife...but we're doing pretty well."

"Yeah, my Man, we are." Garrett high-fived him.

Winston Zeddemore poked his head down the hole around the fire pole. "You guys okay down there? With all the laughing I was afraid the vampire clowns had come back..."

Garrett and Roland laughed again.

* * *

**5:23PM GST, (The video conference)**

* * *

The conference room made into Vincent Belmont's laboratory was alive with activity. Many Ghostbusters stood in silence, watching the live video sattelite feed that Egon and Vincent had rigged up. They watched the faces of the people in New York on a nice 25-inch flatscreen surface. The picture was crystal-clear, and the single streaming feed was almost flawless, something that both Egon and Vincent were silently proud of. A few straggling members had come from a very early dinner. Peter and Egon sat nearest to the screens, and Peter was just sitting down as he handed Egon a cup of coffee. He took a sip of his own coffee while he listened to the voice that was being piped over the P.A. system of the headquarters. The incoherent muttering of the other Ghostbusters was silenced when Egon turned around and shushed them.

Back in New York, Ray Stantz, Winston Zeddemore, Louis Tully, and Dana Barrett-Venkman sat in the laboratory of Egon Spengler, watching a similar video setup. They could clearly see the faces of Egon Spengler and Peter Venkman, and what looked to be Ben King and Fritz Baugh. The other scenery seemed to be a whole cadre of Ghostbusters, milling around, most cut out by the size of the video screen. Louis tried not to think about how much this endeavor was costing the company.

_"...And then, well, I remembered the arms coming out of the chair. And being dragged into the kitchen, where it was waiting for me..." _The uneven voice of Dana Barrett-Venkman recalled.

"What was waiting for you?" the even voice of Egon Spengler asked.

_"Zuul..."_ Dana replied. _"The Gatekeeper. The Terror Dog..."_

"And then?" Peter Venkman prodded.

_"I woke up screaming. I called Louis, and he had the same dream with Vinz Clortho...and then I called Peter." _

"Ray...did Dana and Louis register any PK variances?" Egon asked.

_"None that I could detect...but it was several hours ago..."_ Ray Stantz replied with a slight hint of annoyance. He knew that he did not have time to be able to collect some data.

_"If I'd known I'd have come right away, but..."_ Dana began to say.

"Don't." Venkman said to his wife simply. "You did the right thing letting me know then...if it's anybody's fault it's mine for not telling you to hustle over there."

_"So what are you saying?"_ Louis asked, worry beginning to show on his face. _"There really is something going on?"_

"Yes." Fritz responded. "The material we've been translating all pertains to Gozer. The main book in Sumerian, the Latin excerpts Vincent and I've been working on, all about Gozer."

"Dr. Baugh's teammate, Jeremy Hicks, vanished a couple of weeks ago. He was sighted on May 27 in Toronto by Dr. Walker and Dr. Davis of ECTO Canada..." Egon began to explain.

"He'd been acting...strangely ever since our battle with Lord Atrocity in April. We thought it was because of what happened to John, and Ron leaving, but then we found out Wednesday about his sighting in Toronto. He's posessed by something..." Fritz explained. "Thus, our trip to England."

"The same place the bloody Book of Gozer resurfaced." Ben added.

Egon and Peter looked at each other. "And Walker's report... Egon said with just a tinge of hesitation. "...did have Hicks calling himself 'The Keymaster' "

Louis' face went deathly pale.

_"It's happening again, isn't it?"_ he asked, fighting off the urge to pee himself. _"Gozer is coming back..."_

"Not if we can help it," Egon said.

* * *

Janine Spengler looked up when she realized she was no longer alone in the garage. A woman with brown hair dressed in a gaudy pink flightsuit, similar in cut to the ones used by the Ghostbusters, had just entered. _Who in their right mind would wear a pink flight suit?_ she mused bitterly, remembering that the hacks at the cartoon studios had done just such a thing to her character. "May I help you?" she asked as pleasantly as possible, despite the very bad first impression.

The woman looked at her with an intense stare. "Is...Professor Spengler here?"

"I'm afraid he's on England on GBI business..." Janine responded, her instincts starting to shout warnings to her. She tried to nonchalantly move closer to the fire bell button on her desk. "May I take a message?"

"Not necessary. Is Doctor Venkman here? I've spoken to him once before..."

_I bet you have..._ Janine found herself thinking _It better have not been at any time after 1992...and if was before that you would've been underage..._ "Doctor Venkman is also in England."

The woman seemed to struggle with something for a few seconds. "Doctor Stantz, then?"

"May I ask why you are asking?" Janine hesitantly asked, all of her instincts telling her to run.

"I want to know whether I should expect any of them to come to your aid-as I kill you!" With that, the woman vaulted over the desk, her hands reaching for Janine's throat.

If Janine had been taken completely by surprise, it might have worked, but some instinct had put her on her guard. She'd been in many a schoolyard brawl back at PS 47 after all...she rolled and managed to kick her attacker in the midsection, driving her back. Long enough to ram down the fire bell.

* * *

A shrill alarm could reverberated through the the New York firehouse, and through the loudspeakers of the small laboratory in England.

_"A call?"_ Winston said, exasperated.

"Let Roland and the kids get it..." Venkman shook his head.

_"RAAAY! WINSTOOON!"_ a loud, angry female voice called out from downstairs in the New York headquarters.

Egon suddenly changed demeanor from concentrated scientist to concerned husband at the sound of Janine's voice.

"Janine?"

On-screen the gathered Ghostbusters in England could see Ray and Winston charge off in the direction of the open door to the lab as both Dana and Louis exchanged a worried glance. A few moments later the screen began to display static.

"_Peter?"_ Dana asked...worried that the static might mean something bigger.

"Dana! Take Louis and get downstairs...help the others if you can..." Peter could only look his wife in the eyes for a moment before the video link broke into complete static. Two words written in green lettering were now being displayed in the video link window:

_...link severed_

"Dammit!" Peter shouted as he slammed his fist into the desk.

* * *

"You slutty bitch!" the woman was screaming, lunging for Janine again. "If you weren't controlling his mind he could be happy...just let him go!"

"What in the hell are you talking about?" Janine shouted, but before she could recieve any answer, the pink-clad woman succeeded in grabbing her, with a speed that seemed impossible. She also started to choke Janine with a strength that seemed impossible.

"When you're out of the way...Egon will be mine! And we'll be happy!"

_"Adonai in Heaven...is that what this is about?"_ Janine realized with disgust and horror. _"She's one of those EgonsStalkers like on the internet? This is insane!"_

"We'll get married...and have a couple of daughters, and they'll be _WAY_ cuter than those stupid kids he had with you...and he'll forget all about them, and be happy with me and our daughters forever and ever and ever..." There was a loud, solid thud, and Janine could suddenly almost breathe again.

She opened one eye to see that Winston Zeddemore had body-checked her attacker into a filing cabinet.

Three tiny faces had appeared at the top of the stairwell. "Stay up there!" Ray barked at his son and the Spengler Twins.

"Mooom!" John shouted, and started to run down there anyway, but Eric-three years older an a bit bigger-managed to stop him. Eduardo and Roland, on the other hand, charged down the stairs to help. Kylie helped drag the frantic John back up the stairs. Garrett cursed his disabililty for one of the few times in his life-he would lose precious moments getting to the elevator.

"RAY! A LITTLE HELP HERE!" Winston yelled to him.

Ray grabbed a broom handle and charged the woman grappling with Winston, shouting "GOONGALA!"at the top of his lungs. The assailant moved out of the way at the last second, and Ray shattered the broom handle over Winston with a loud "CRACK!"

"...oops..." Ray said weakly.

"You defend her? After all the slut's done to him?" she howled, her eyes lighting up. "Oh, I get it...she lets _you_ fuck her too..." with that, she stretched out her hand, and shot Ray with a blast of blue energy that sent him flying across the garage.

"Oh, you are gonna get it so brought on, Bitch!" Eduardo shouted, jumping off the top of the desk and drop-kicking the woman, sending her right into the storage lockers, the nearest one ironically marked "SPENGLER."

Roland and Dana helped Janine to her feet. "You okay, Mrs. S?" he asked.

"I will be once that bitch is in jail..."

Louis just froze at the top of the stairs. Dana was down there...Janine was down there...but he couldn't move any closer. He felt fear. He felt doubt. He looked around frantically, wondering aloud to himself if there was anything he could do to help.

Eduardo was doing an endzone dance by the fallen attacker. "What can I say? I am good..."

"Eddie! Look out!" Ray shouted as the woman's eyes opened again.

"What?" was all Eduardo could say before he was blasted accross the room in a wave of blue light. He sailed like a small rag doll over the top of the desks, and towards the front door before his body tumbled over a shipping crate. The woman got up, an evil leer on her face.

"He seems a little young for you, whore, but it's not surprising that you aren't very discriminating..."

Roland had his PKE Meter out. "She's corporeal, but putting off a double wave valence...I think she's posessed..."

"Please tell me you aren't going to defend her too, little man..." the attacker said dismissively, moving toward Roland and Janine.

Ray and Winston both jumped her, using their combined strength to hold her back. Winston grabbed her in a headlock, making her unable to move to blast them, though a few new holes were made in the interior of the old firehouse. Winston tightened the grip, in hopes of making it too painful to keep her eyes open to fire.

Eduardo grabbed her, too. "Like it rough, Chica?" Suddenly, the woman opened her mouth and screamed. As she did, an aqua blue stream of ectoplasm vomited out of it, almost hitting Eduardo. "What the fuck?" he shouted, falling backward, tripping over his own feet, "She's doin', like, the Linda Blair thing!"

In Ray and Winston's grip, the woman went limp. Roland had his PKE meter out. "It's ectoplasm all right," he said, "and the PK trace is fading. It had something to do with what happened to her, I'll bet..."

"That'd be my guess too..." Ray nodded. The woman who attacked them was out cold.

"Is it all right down there?" Kylie shouted.

"I think so..." Winston responded.

* * *

**England,  
10:29PM GMT **

* * *

"Egon?" Ben asked, voicing the concern the others obviously felt.

"We continue our work...we can't guarantee that the system will be restored anytime soon. We must make sure that we stop Jeremy meeting up with the chosen form for Zuul before it's too late." Egon instructed. As the other Ghostbusters left to go back to what they'd been doing Peter remained in the lab.

"Spengs...it doesn't take a genius that this can't simply be a coincidence." Peter replied. "I mean...some big thing going down at HQ just as Gozer is about to plan a Reunion Tour and all..."

"Agreed, Peter. However we cannot assess the problem until contact with HQ is restored." Egon explained.

"You think the email might work? Should we try send a message to HQ...or Rich?"

Egon thought for a moment, in normal circumstances he'd be wary in letting Peter use any form of email system after what had happened...however this was neither the time nor the place for childish grudges.

"If there is a problem I highly doubt that the system will be back up any time soon...however, we will put Ben King Jr. to the task of monitoring both of the instant chat systems, the newer GBI system, and the email. If the lines of connection are restored and something has happened at HQ I believe they will send us a message post haste." Egon finally replied.

"Whatever you thinks best, big guy." Peter replied. "But if it's all the same, I want to keep a watch over things..."

"Naturally." Egon replied, "but remember, Peter...you're not the only person with someone you'd gladly go into an alternate dimension and back to rescue."

"Yeah...I hear you Egon." Peter replied with a weak grin and then left the room. A few moments later, Egon stood up and walked over to Iain's Lab where the translation work had resumed, Jeff and Fritz were bent over the book and slowly working their way through the remaining passages; which was still a long way off. Egon broke the silence.

"Fritz, we will need to step up searches for Mr. Hicks...we are quickly running out of time and with the recent events..."

"Understood." Fritz nodded. "What will be happening with Dr. Venkman?"

"For the moment, I will allow Venkman to keep watch over the communications lines. However, once we receive word from New York, I will ask him to return to work with the teams searching for Jeremy."

"Agreed." Fritz replied as he then turned back to the book. Egon walked out into the corridor, removed his glasses and allowed himself to collapse against the wall for a moment. _"What in the entire periodic table of elements is going on in New York?" _he thought to himself, _"Janine...stay safe."_

* * *

**New York,  
6:33PM EDT **

* * *

The three kids were down the stairs in seconds, just about knocking Louis over. Eduardo had put on his proton pack, thrower at the ready, watching the unconscious attacker suspiciously.

"You okay, Mom?" John asked his mother as he and his sister hugged her.

"I will be, Johnathan..." Janine responded. "Once somebody explains what the heck just happened."

"Magic, I bet, JC..." Eric chimed in. "It's cool stuff...when used for good instead of evil. I've heard dad talking about it with Dr. Belmont! I've heard mom talk about it alot, too...there was this time when mom-"

"Eric, sweetie, can we skip talking about that _warlock _for one day? It leaves a bad taste in my mouth," Kylie called from the stairs, "now come on up here where it's safe, okay?"

Ray regarded his son with a little bit of apprehension. He'd been suspecting that Eric had...a sensativity to PKE flow. Maybe even potential..."The Gift" he'd heard Vincent and Liz both call it. _I guess it wouldn't be a surprise..._ Ray admitted to himself.

Louis hung at the fringe of the moment of relief. _As usual... _he remarked to himself, _That's where I've been for the last twenty-one years...the fringe...part of it, but somehow, not. Not in the way the guys are. Not in the way Dana and Janine are. Heck, not even in the way those newer kids are... _Then, he bumped into something as he stepped back...and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

_"You were the last avatar of the Keymaster..."_ a female voice spoke in his head, knowingly, _"No wonder the Master failed..."_ He whirled around to see someone standing there, dressed in black, with a deep hood covering its face. The black-clad figure gestured before he could even utter a cry for assistance. The whole room was filled with blue light...the same shade of aqua blue that had spewed out of Mary Sue Gladstone's mouth. Everyone froze, as though they were statues. Even Slimer, who'd floated down the stairs with Louis, seemed frozen in place. The black clad figure went over to Ray Stantz.

"You are the one I want." the cold female voice spoke aloud.

"R...Ray..." Winston grunted.

"D...D..Dad..." Eric tried to cry.

The woman brought a hand to Ray's face. For ten seconds he stood there, totally still. He felt a tingling feeling in the frontal lobe of his brain. He felt as though a pair of hands were opening his mind like a book. He felt the icy burning of an invisible stare...reading him; reading his very thoughts. He gasped for breath, and closed his eyes. He envisioned in his mind a giant geometric shape. He thought about the infinity of the circle that bordered the diagram, and the six-pointed star that inhabited the circle, and the countless thousands of angles that comprised it, retracing it again and again. He read the words on the circle to himself. He repeated them over and over, tracing the shape anew in his head.

_**"Ego erectus claustra in mea mentem; Nemo penetrabo. Meam intelligentiam castellam est; Nemo perdetrabo. Meam mentem vacuus est; Nemo legerebo meam cognitatium. Cognitatio, fieri parmam; defendere mea ab hostes. Meam voluntas turrem ferri est; Ego tutum sum intramurum."**_

He said it again and again, and he redrew the shape, and he felt the tingling sensation stop. He drew in his breath. Both Liz and Vincent had drilled this exercise in his head a thousand times. He could even hear the voice of Vincent saying _"It might save your life one day," _and that of Liz, whispering _"I just want you to be safe" _in his ear.

He then uttered a garbled cry of pain. He felt as though cold daggers were stabbing into his skull. The daggers sent an icy wash over his entire skeleton, and he felt as though his nerve endings were on fire. The invisible gaze burned into his cerebrum. He felt his very memories being read...with every scanned memory reliving itself in a burning agony. He began to scream.

"Impressive..." the woman said, taking her hand away. "I see you learned a trick or two about mind barriers from one of the Hermetics...not that it was enough, of course." She reached into Ray's pocket, and extracted a set of keys. "This will prove useful..." With that, she turned, and walked toward to the staircase leading to the basement.

"S...s...stop...h...her..." Ray bit out as best he could.

"I...I..." Eduardo grimaced, trying to move his thrower.

Even upstairs, Kylie was frozen. And Garrett, who had just made it downstairs.

The Herald of Gozer walked into the basement, regarding the humming, red-painted device that dominated the room. Its enormous bulk dwarfed the black-clad intruder.

"There are a wide number of safeguards that protect this unit from being opened," she said aloud, savoring her recital of Ray's memories, "Since the only wholesale breach of the unit in the fall of 1983, a number of backups have been implemented." To their horror, the people upstairs realized she was letting them see what was happening. "You...you can't..." Ray said.

"What...what's she trying to do?" Eduardo asked.

"She..wants to open...the ECU..."

"Computer access...how mundane," she scoffed. With casual ease, she typed in Ray's username and password.

_User Name: _

_Dopeydog_

_**Password**__: _

_xxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_**Administrator Access Approved **_

_**Action**_

_Locate Specific Entity_

_**Specify?**_

_Reference GBI Case File GBNY-1983-1/001 _

_Power 8 _

_Ectopresence 18_

_**Scanning...**_

"Gozer...it has to do with Gozer..." Louis, despite his fear, managed to blurt out.

"But...Gozer was destroyed? Right?" Dana replied.

"Gozer was returned to its home dimension..." Ray answered. "But not all of it..."

_...Match found. Containment sector 2F_

_**Action?**_

_Realign Containment interface to sector 2F _

"A large amount of raw ecto matter littered the streets around Central Park West..." Ray continued, straining.

_...Realignment of interface complete._

_**Authorize Grid Shutdown **_

_**Warning! This action will cause, in the event of an outage of the main power, a loss of containment viability for five seconds before the backup power generation can be activated! Sector 2F will suffer a containment breach hazzard. Any entity in sector 2F may potentially escape the Ecto Containment Unit! Do you wish to continue?**_

_Yes_

_**Administrator Access Level for User Dopeydog Confirmation. Please reenter password. **_

_**Password**_

_**Running... **_

_**...Grid Shutdown Is Authorized**_

_"Oh shit..." _Janine whispered, a memory coming clear into her mind...

* * *

**1985... **

_

* * *

__Cyrus Spengler nonchalantly pulled the handle, triggering a sequence of loud alarms. _

_"I really wish you hadn't done that, Doctor Spengler..." Janine said flatly. The ECU opened for a few seconds. A small, white figure popped out, only about a foot tall, wearing a sailor hat and a wide grin. _

_"Oh, how cute..." Cyrus remarked_

* * *

**6:40PM EDT**

* * *

"The ectoplasm, marshmallowy in form, was collected with every ghost trap we had...we had to rig one of the packs to power the traps to hold it..." Ray struggled on, sweat forming on his brow, "until we got the new Containment Unit on line..."

"Now then," the Herald remarked, moving toward the wall unit that held the master power switch, "all that is left is this simple mechanical device." She pulled open the cover to the switch, freshly disarmed by the Shutdown Authorization.

"The marshmallow slime recongealed...into its last shape."

"The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man!" Kylie said.

"Yeah..." Ray managed to nod faintly.

_Dad... _Eric thought to himself, looking at his father, _If only I could do something..._

"The Corpus of Gozer," the Herald acknowledged, "my master's form, and a large part of his power. With the Corpus free, and returned to him, he will be complete...and ready to assume his rightful place and consume this miserable little mudball"

"How can you do this? You're human!" Roland shouted. "Gozer will just destroy you too!"

"If it is his will..." the Herald replied. She selected one key from the ring she'd taken from Ray, and placed it into a waiting socket on the power switch. There was a flash of light. And suddenly Eric Stantz and John Spengler were in the basement with her.

"Huh?" Eric exclaimed out loud.

"What in the name of the Kordath...?" the Herald shouted in shock.

Before she could react further, Johnathan Spengler jumped on her, howling with a fury surprising for one so young.

"Get the keys!" Ray shouted.

"Get off of me, dust mote!" the Herald snarled, throwing the redheaded boy off of her. She gestured with her outstretched hand, and Eric Stantz was hit with a bolt of blue force, slamming the small boy into the brickwork of the wall. Eric collapsed. "Tremble, Mortals-for the return of the Destructor is at hand!" she shouted, her amusement gone. _Who was the older boy, that he could resist my power?_ the Herald found herself thinking. _And the younger one...I sensed something in him as well..._ She angrily turned the key, triggering a red light to start blinking by the power switch, and on the ECU's control panel.

The Herald of Gozer yanked the large switch downward...

The entirety of the basement lighting went red, and a loud alarm started to sound.

"Oh shit..." Winston gasped.

"The odds of one specific entity being at the point of containment breach, even if it's in the same grid sector, are quite considerably low..." the Herald remarked, as a bit of the smug tone returning to her voice. The door to the containment chamber flew open, as the electronic klaxon blared out its unheeded warning. "But as I understand it, a man named Spengler once said that at it's root, magic is all about beating the odds."

A foot-tall white, puffy, cute looking figure popped out of the opening, before it slammed back shut.

_**...Backup Power Engaged**_

"Oh shit..." several voices said all in unison, as they realized they could move.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Winston barked.

Eduardo grabbed Louis, who was still looking dazed. He spared a look over his shoulder to see Kylie grabbing Eden Spengler.

_Thank God we left our girls with Beth and Kevin..._ he thought to himself.

Louis, meanwhile, was fighting off a painful feeling of deja vu. It was like something he'd experienced before, but couldn't clearly remember...

_..."It's a sign"..._

"No time for courtesy, Mrs. Venkman." Roland said, grabbing Dana. Not having actually been at the firehouse at that infamous day, her feeling of familiarity was more diluted...but still quite present.

Slimer screamed and flew through the wall.

Winston Zeddemore, Ray Stantz, and Janine Spengler, however, ran the opposite direction.

Garrett cursed his disability for the second time that day, wishing he could help them, and rolled out of the building.

Speechlessly, they ran into the basement. Winston's powerful arms scooped up Eric Stantz and Johnathan Christopher Spengler, and only then did they flee the building with all due haste.

Fortunately, the same phenomenon that had saved the firehouse from wholesale destruction nineteen years ago-when Cyrus Spengler accidentally opened the ECU-saved it today. The little white figure was growing rapidly, but it's substance was still ethereal. Its enormous bulk passed right through through the front of the firehouse, leaving little more than a marshmallowy glaze of ectoplasm.

The white giant slowly grew larger, and as it did, it became less and less ethereal, as the cetoplasm that made it, began to materialize and congeal. The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man once more walked the streets of New York City.

The Herald stood atop an adjoining rooftop lifting its arms triumphantly to the sky. "Corpus of Zildrohar! Your day of destiny is at hand!"

The giant figure just lurched down the street, knocking over a billboard as he walked. Far below, hundreds of panicked New Yorkers screamed at the top of their lungs, trying to escape the giant Marshmallow mascot's heavy footsteps. Cars slammed into each other on the roadway and people merely exited their vehicles to make their escape on foot.

"ME LIKE GOING FOR WALKIES..." a booming, genial voice responded.

From their vantage point across the street, the assembled Ghostbusters and family caught their breath.

"Why does Mr. Stay Puft sound like a tard, anyway?" Eduardo asked in a staggered breath.

"He...he was formed out of the marshmallow ectoplasm we collected from the streets..." Ray explained, holding his son tightly, "he recongealed after it was loaded into the Containment Unit, but when Gozer's mind returned to it's home dimension, he was completely mindless at first. Then, he sorta started to form a childlike personality...he seemed to like Slimer..."

"I don't see Slimer." Roland noted.

"He's probably halfway to Pittsburgh by now," Kylie shook her head, "Everyone all right?" Several solemn nods followed.

"How much trouble am I in this time?" John asked, firmly in his relieved mother's embrace with his sister.

"You did just fine, Sweetheart..." Janine responded.

Ray spared a moment of thought, _Eric just showed the first signs of genuine magical ability...she needs to know as soon as this is over..."_

Winston Zeddemore had his cel phone out. He was already on the phone with Rich at the GBI office. "No time for explainations, Rich-we got a huge emergency brewing here. Get word to all available nearby franchises...it doesn't get much bigger than this..."

"How big?" Winston asked in suprise, "Oh..." he mused, watching the huge form of the Marshmallow man storming down the main street, "...about 500 tons."

* * *

**Location: Unknown, Time: Unknown, Hour 0 **

* * *

Vincent awoke staring up dreamily into the night sky. He pulled his hand out of the water, where it had dangled off the boat whenever it was that he fell asleep. His hand was ice cold, and numb. The gondola he was lying in drifted lazily upon the waters' gentle waves. He no longer recognized the sky, or any of its constellations, nor did he see the sun rise. Wondering how long he had been asleep, he pulled out his pocketwatch and flipped the face open. It read "10:47," but the sun was nowhere to be seen.

Vincent sat up in the small watercraft and looked over the side of the boat. The thick mist that enshrouded the boat obscured the water below. Vincent, for a moment, thought that he saw the reflection of the stars in the water, but found that they did not flicker or wane, as waves upon the waters would do to a reflection. It seemed, in reality, that he was floating upon a literal sea of stars.

Wondering aloud, Vincent began to question how long he had been sleeping, and how long the gondola had been afloat. The last thing he remembered was speaking aloud the incantation of travel, but nothing after that. He only remembered looking up at the stars. He stared up at the stars again as he placed his cold hand in his duster, feeling the sharp tingling of feeling returning to his frozen extremity.

It was then, that the boat jolted, nearly throwing Vincent into the ice-cold waters. The gondola had hit solid ground.

_"Good!" _Vincent thought.

He looked up on to a sandy shore, just outside a forest as black and as gloomy as a patch of night that just refused to ever go away. He stepped out into the freezing waters of the shore, and dragged the small gondola onto the sands of the shore, and noticed the sand's flat gray color. In fact, nothing had much of a color at all. It was as if Vincent were staring into a long-forgotten black and white photograph.

He scanned the forest's edge, looking for a path he could walk. He trudged over the colorless sand, looking into the inky blackness of the trees. All that accompanied his lonely walk was a chill wind, and the slapping of the surf against the rocks in the water.

There were no sounds of activity coming from the trees. No comfort. Only a restless gloom. No crickets. No birds. No life.

Vincent could only wish for such luck, though, as the desolace of the shore was far from benign. He felt as if a thousand eyes were watching his every move, each one of them concerning himself with every step he took on to the gloomy island. The isle carried a malevolence with it. It was something that he could not shake. It was as if the shadows of the trees he kept looking into were alive.

* * *

**New York, 7:10PM EDT **

* * *

A somber group was assembled downstairs at Ghostbusters Central. Winston Zeddemore stood there in his uniform, donning his proton pack. He looked in a mirror nearby, and admired his uniform. He remembered back in the day when he first joined the Ghostbusters. The Khaki jumpsuit and clunky ghost-catching rays seemed like a silly notion, but here he was, after a whole two decades, wearing a blue jumpsuit...and a clunky ghost-catching ray on his back. Even after his first doubts, he came to love the company. It was then however, that reality had dawned on him...

"Please tell me you have a plan, Ray..." he grumbled.

Ray Stantz, his normally merry eyes grave, pulled on his work gloves. He looked in the mirror in his locker and ran his hand through his dishevelled copper-colored hair. He fiddled with his utility belt, and touched the black name patch on his uniform. It looked almost like a black hole in his tan uniform. A quick memory about starting the company with his best friends surfaced. He thought solemnly if that memory was just one of the many that were forcibly ripped from him only a short time ago...

"We trapped him before using just about every trap we have...but he was even more mindless then. He doesn't seem very cunning, but it just might be enough."

"Plus, there's the problem of laying out all those traps and keeping them energized long enough." Roland Jackson added.

Roland pulled on his work gloves and looked out of the corner of his eye at Ray. He made sure that everything was perfect, from his suit, to his utility belt. He wanted to live up to the standards of Dr. Raymond Stantz, and they were very large boots to fill.

Garrett nodded next to him. He zipped up the front of his uniform and flexed his muscles slightly, making sure that his uniform was snug, but comfortable.

Kylie Griffin, in a new and unusual development, had a uniform made, solid black in color. In fact, the only thing on her that was not black was her lilly white skin. Instead of the Mark 3 proton pistol she'd been using, she was armed with Ray Stantz's new prototype, created from the designs of the "proton rail gun" created by Dr. Nash and Dr. Masterson of the Ghostbusters West Coast.

_A little napalm in this thing might help... _she thought, devilishly.

Eduardo was not wearing a standard uniform. He'd come a ways since the days Roland's team had formed, though-instead of bell bottom pants and cowboy boots, he was wearing tan work pants and work boots. He insisted on keeping his favorite green shirt and orange vest, however.

"I think Dr. Stantz and company tried frying back in 83..." he thought to himself.

Janine Melnitz Spengler opened her husband's locker, drawing out his faded blue uniform. She thought of him as she slipped into it, and she painfully recalled his absence in England. She zipped up the front, and fumbled for a spare belt. She realized sheepishly that the uniform was a few sizes too large for her. She had her own of course, which she had worn more than once, but just felt...closer to him this way.

_If only Egon was here... _she couldn't help but think.

"All we know is, we gotta stop him. Not just because he's destructive..." Ray said. "But because it's a sure bet that that woman doesn't want him over for S'Mores..."

"Unless they're really really big S'Mores..." Eduardo quipped.

Nobody laughed.

* * *

**7:15PM EDT**

* * *

The Herald of the Destructor smiled inside her black hood as she looked out upon the panicked New Yorkers running around in the city streets below.

_"All is going as planned..."_

She expanded her senses once more, and saw where the others were waiting. The small, but powerful, cult she'd assembled over the years had chosen the roof of an office building near the Chrysler building as its perch to watch the destruction. The small group sat in a circle, all enshrounded in black, with obscuring hoods identical to hers.

In the center sat a man, chanting. "Ragnarok" was the name he had chosen...the twilight of the Gods in Norse mythology...and he was a sorcerer. His appearance to the Herald had been one of the signs of the coming of the Traveller.

_"But of course I will serve you, Herald..." _he had said. _"Your Vuulgus Zildrohar is but another face of my Infernal Master, Wyrmus Magnus..."_

She joined her thoughts with theirs now.

_"The Corpus comes, my Fellows..." _

_"We are ready"_ they replied, as one.

Stay-Puft nonchalantly knocked over a small building as he strode along. He didn't do it maliciously, but just seemed to not comprehend how large he was and how comparatively fragile everything else was...

"WALKIES FUN..." he boomed, cheerfully.

* * *

**7:19PM EDT**

* * *

Jessica Venkman about swallowed her popcorn when the show that was on suddenly was interrupted by a new flash. She wasn't watching it-she was about to put in _Citizen Kane _when a hyperactive Channel Six reporter came on.

As comprehension dawned, she yelled for her brother. Annoyed, Oscar Wallance sprinted into the room. "What is it, Jess?"

She only pointed at the TV screen.

_"...Confirm that the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, the mascot of 'Stay-Puft Marshmallows' and seemingly opponent of the famous Ghostbusters, has once again been sighted in the streets of Manhattan. Mayor MacShayne has called a state of Emergency..."_ Vernon Fenwick was saying.

Oscar was on the phone as quickly as his legs could get him to it.

_"Ghostbusters; I'm afraid we can't take any calls right now because we're having a big big problem and..."_

"Tully, is my Mom there?" Oscar interrupted.

_"Huh? Oscar, oh sure..."_ Louis said quickly. His voice was quickly replaced with Dana's.

_"Oscar?"_

"You okay, Mom?" Oscar asked her.

_"I'm fine, Honey..."_ she replied. Oscar repeated that for Jessica's benefit.

"What's going on?"

_"I don't know totally...but it's bad. And Ray thinks it's part of what your Dad went to England about..."_

"Crap in a hat..."

_"Stay where you are, both of you. It'll either be over soon or..."_

"Or what?"

_"Or it won't matter where you are..."_

* * *

**England **

* * *

_"...Sky News where we are bringing you footage live from one of our report helicopters in New York."_ Adam Bestler watched as the screen changed to a helicopter view of Manhattan, more specifically the site known as Ground Zero and the former spot of the World Trade Center.

"Isn't that Stay Puft?" Roger Johnson asked. Jill, Rosey and Molly came over to view the TV screen.

"Guys! Get in here!" Adam shouted. A few moments later the rest of the West Coast, New York and UK Ghostbusters entered the room.

"It's worse then we thought." Egon commented.

"Too right." Ben added.

"I guess we now know what that commotion at the Firehouse was all about then." Peter replied finally.

"It would appear so...it would seem that a coincidence is highly unlikely in relation to current circumstances." Egon agreed. "The fact that Stay Puft is a large portion of Gozer's form may prove some theories that if Gozer is to re-form in our world it needs it's complete being to perform the process. That gives credence to Vincent's theory of Gozer having a "heart."

"But where would they take it? I doubt Stay Puft could walk _under _the Atlantic for too long." Roger Kennedy asked.

"That remains to be seen." Fritz commented.

* * *

F32136-60504y

056


	12. June 7, 2004 Part 2

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge,

and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

* * *

**June 7th, 2004  
One Day Until the End of the World  
New York City  
7:21PM EDT**

* * *

Three men stood in the middle of the street, amongst the abandoned cars and fleeing citizens, staring up at the huge form of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man lumbering into view. Their black uniforms might have let them blend into the pavement, if not for their green stripe along their sides, and their visible No-ghost logo on their shoulders. Their silver "rosaries," with all manner of charms and holy symbols, glistened in the fading sunlight as black clouds cast their shadow over the frightened New York public.

Dr. Gabriel Martin plucked the cigarette nestled under his ear and tenderly placed it between his lips. His weather-beaten face and thick gray hair and goatee fluttered in the coming breeze. He took but a moment to adjust his glasses before lighting his cigarette, assessing the situation. He scratched at his unshaven cheeks, and then reached into his front pocket, drawing out another cigarette, and offering it to the man to his left before tucking it neatly behind his ear to fill the now empty cigarette space.

Dr. Harold Seward refused the cigarette offered to him before resuming his attentions to the several hundred ton marshmallow ad stomping down the street towards them, crushing the abandoned cars beneath its feet. He ran his fingers through his disheveled mop of brown hair as he reached for the proton gun attatched to the proton pack on his back. His red horn-rimmed glasses sat lazily on his face, hiding his blue eyes, and his thick moustache twitched in the wind. He felt no desire to adjust his glasses, but an overwhelming urge to get out from the path of the oncoming creature. His thoughts turned then to his wife and two children, who would probably be at this moment watching the whole fiasco unfold over the evening news.

Noriyuki Inugami, "Nate" as his companions called him, stared up wide-eyed, chewing his bubblegum noisily. He took a moment to whip his head to the side shaking his long black bangs out of his eyes, and a few solitary beads of sweat from his face. He adjusted his belt, sticking his thumbs in the belt loops lazily. He looked down to his left at Gabe, even dwarfing him with his tall and muscular build. Nate broke almost every stereotype about Japanese people that could ever be thought of. He chuckled as he blew a bubble, staring upward again, his eyes glazed over, seemingly half-asleep.

"May I ask what is so funny?" Harry asked him nervously.

Nate only continued to chew his gum loudly, then grinned as he pointed upward at the towering marshmallow man.

"Heh," he chuckled, as he pointed, "Marshmallow dude..."

Both Harry and Gabe slowly turned their gaze to stare at Nate, wondering for the fifth time in that day alone why they hired him in the first place. Their need to speak was drowned out by the the sheer absurdity of Nate's commentary.

"I'm glad _YOU'RE_ amused, Mr. Inugami," Harry spat in harsh whispers, gesturing emphatically at the looming giant only a city block away, "but the people who _AREN'T_ smoking non-perscription holistic medicine think that our jobs and lives are in jeopardy."

"Uh huh," Nate droned as he continued to stare upward, "you say somethin' Doc?"

It was at that moment that Harry had contemplated quitting Ghostbusting altogether; that is, until his cellphone beeped. He took one hand off of his weapon and answered it, muttering a nervous greeting as he looked upward at Stay-Puft. Sweat began to pour down his lily-white face.

"H-Hello?" he stammered.

_"Harry?" _asked the voice of Ray Stantz over the cellphone, _"I tried to get ahold of you guys, but your vehicle radio is off."_

"Yeah, well..."

_"No time, Harry, I was wondering if you guys could meet us down on Barclay Street? We're going to try and stop Stay-Puft there."_

Harry looked at his comerades, and nodded. "Yeah," he said, "sure, I..."

"Just a minute," Gabe grunted, folding his arms, "I wanna try something. We'll slow it down to give those guys the time they need to do whatever it is they're doing."

Harry sheathed his proton gun again and wiped his brow. "Ummm...we'll call you right back, Ray." Harry muttered as he pushed the **OFF** button on his cellphone.

"Now," he began, "tell me why we're not just meeting with the rest of them?"

"I have a plan..." Gabe mumbled, gesturing at him as if he were silencing a small child, something which Harry did not like.

"Do what you like, Dr. Martin, but I'm going to get the car ready if you don't mind." Harry grumbled feciciously, shaking his head.\par

"Good idea," Gabe said, "because we'll need to be out of here if this doesn't work."

Gabe looked over at Nate, who was still standing in the same position, staring blankly upward, like a cow chewing its cud. Gabe only shook his head in disgust.

"Idiot..." he muttered.

Gabe grabbed the large silver ankh that hung around his neck, and closed his eyes, tuning out the sounds of the wind, the sounds of the shouting people, the booming of Stay-Puft's footsteps, and Harry's nervous ramblings as he headed for their vehicle. He even managed to tune out Nate's annoyingly loud chewing. His mind reached out to the subtle energies permeating the space around him. Sorcerers of ancient Egypt before him, using the style of magic Gabriel chose called this energy "Heka."

He gripped the silver Egyptian talisman tightly as his mind reached out to the ether, conjuring spirits manifest in the cold astral sea to him, and began their bindings to work his spell. His will sought to bend and command these ethereal entities to spirit away the form of Stay-Puft, sending it back from whence it came. He gestured the spell's somatic components with practiced ease as the incantation left his lips...

_**"Tewet Bak 'Ne Bin A'Nen! Kem En A'Nen Netdjer Ne Mesedj!"**_

The wind picked up speed as a ghostly howl seemed to permeate the street as his voice echoed softly on the swift breeze.

Nate snapped out of his stupor, looked around, and crouched down into a martial arts stance, realizing now that he wasn't paying attention at all.

"Shit!" he shouted, "Oh...right. Yeah! Let's go." Nate closed his eyes as well. Everything around him was engulfed in unnatural blackness as his mind began to retreat into his subconscious. He heard disembodied screams, and twisted visiages of faces both human and inhuman raced before his mind's eye. Something black clawed away at his mind, and he began to panic all at once. He felt he should be used to this by now, but it seemed that he would never get over the anguish of Harmonixing. "_Shit_," he thought to himself, "_I hate this part...hurts like a motherfu-"_

It was his last thought before he let the darkness in his own mind take him. Nate let out a bloodcurtling scream that could be heard for miles. It wasn't only Nates voice crying out in agony, but something else crying out with him...some-THING, some terrible beast within him. He gripped his own head, feeling the urge to explode altogether, as his very body let out a great flash of light, as the swirling white energy that engulfed his body twisted his flesh, ripping apart his uniform, letting his proton pack fall to the ground.

When the energy dissipated, what was left of the young man was a terrible beast, almost tiger-like in shape, standing bipedal, eight feet high, with forearms reaching down to its feet. Its fur was a deep forest green, and thick black stripes wrapped around it like collosal tattoos. A torn Ghostbusters uniform draped from its muscular frame. It howled with a supernatural ferocity as it bared its white furry chest. It lunged at Stay Puft with a ferocity unmatched, and its yellow eyes flashed like lightning amongst the coming stormclouds.

The monster tore into Stay Puft's legs, clawing with animalistic fury, ripping chunks of marshmallow from its body. Stay Puft looked down, and its happy expression twisted to one of shock. It kicked once, taking out a shop window below, and tossing the monster from its leg. The monster's body sailed more than fifty feet through the air before it struck the side of a building. It rolled off the building and into the street again, only a few feet from Gabriel.

Ghostly images swirled around Gabe as he gestured again. He opened his eyes again, and shouted in the loudest voice he could muster. It reverberated upon the walls of the buildings on the streets as the wind blew harder still...

_**"A'Neni Ka En A'A'Ew!"**_

The spirits flew from their lazy orbit around Gabe and flew toward Stay Puft, with their eager skeletal arms outstretched, commanded by the sorcerer to whisk it away to banishment in the realms unknown.

Something happened, however...

Before the spirits reached the white giant, they evaporated with an eerie screetch. Nothing had happened, and Stay Puft continued its trek down the street.

Gabe stood looking up in shock, as the form of Nate Inugami arose from his unconsciousness next to him. Gabe looked around frantically, at a loss to explain the failure of his own spellcraft. "What sorcery is _this?_" He bellowed, "Dirty Pool! Someone else is pulling Stay Puft's strings! ALOT of someone!"

"Huh?" the woozy Nate mumbled as he stood up and cradled his arm.

"No time, idiot!" Gabe shouted as he grabbed Nate by his other arm and dragged him along towards their waiting vehicle, stopping only to retrieve Nate's fallen Proton Pack.

"Harry!" Gabe shouted frantically as he stuffed Nate into the back seat, "Call Ray! Tell him we'll be there in five minutes!"

Harry wasted no time in leaving the area as soon as Gabe was inside. He dared hazzard a single glance into the backseat of the vehicle, and saw Nate's dishevelled form. Nate groaned in pain as he laid accross the back seat.

"Shit!" Nate shouted suddenly, sitting up with a start.

"What?" Gabe asked, "You okay back there?"

"I swallowed my gum..." Nate mumbled as he laid down in the back seat.

* * *

**7:28PM EDT**

* * *

The ECTO-2 tore through the skies. Janine nervously weaved around the tall buildings as the craft sped toward the lumbering form of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man.

"ECTO-1, ECTO-2, do you read?" Janine repeated into the cockpit radio.

Ray Stantz grabbed the ECTO-1's radio. "ECTO-1 here, Janine..."

_"Ray, he's still moving pretty much due south, down Broadway."_

"You see anything else?"

_"The bitch who sprung him, I think...she's floating nearby. You think she might be taking him someplace deliberately?"_

"I'd just about bet the rent money on it."

Winston looked at Ray from the driver's seat. "Ray, I hope I'm wrong, but I got one guess..."

"Go on..."

"You think maybe they're taking him to some place that might, say, be utterly sizzling with residual PKE...maybe from a large man-made atrocity?" Ray's eyes went wide. Janine knew what Winston was talking about, as well.

_"Adonai...you don't think..."_ she stammered into the radio.

Ray shook his head, and Winston remarked to himself that he'd never seen his old friend look so...old. Like any New Yorker, there was one day seared in their memory. Eduardo's brother Carlos had lost a lot of friends that day. And the Ghostbusters had very nearly lost Egon, attending a conference in one of the towers.

* * *

**England**

* * *

_"What are you seeing David?"_ The voice of the newsreader asked.

_"What you are seeing is the creature known as the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man...those familiar with the __**Ghostbusters**__ film and TV series will know that this was the form of the demi-god they fought in New York, it now seems, that in either a strange coincidence, or a spectacular publicity stunt, it is here, in the flesh!"_ A graphic displaying the words: 'Voice of Sky News Reporter David Anderson' appeared on the screen. _"...and right now it is stomping it's way down town...along the Avenue of the Americas...we're..."_ There was a pause which might've meant the reporter was hearing something. _"We're just receiving unconfirmed reports that the Marshmallow man is making it's way towards the former site of the World Trade Center...the Mayor's office called a state of emergency and has called an emergency meeting where they are planning on what to do during this situation...they have released a quick response informing us that this is an ill planned and totally inappropriate publicity stunt by the Ghostbusters..."_

"Asshole." Peter swore.

"MacShayne shall receive a letter voicing my and GBI's contempt for his continued undue harassment of the company once I return to New York." Egon replied sternly.

"Woah hold it big fella...not before I get one in, big guy...I have my own axe to grind with him...besides...I'm sure there's some legal mumbo jumbo Louis can bring down on him." Peter added.

_"...however those who may remember the Ghostbusters received similar doubts from former EPA representative Walter Peck who was dismissed for having a dangerous grudge against Ghostbusters CEO Dr. Peter Venkman..."_

"Heh...Pecker's probably spitting out his dinner somewhere." Adam replied.

_"...whatever the reason...we cannot simply ignore the fact that a one-hundred foot sailor made of marshmallow is making it's way to Ground Zero and...hold on a sec folks...we are receiving a word of an attempt of mixed franchises of Ghostbusters International will attempt to tackle this "Stay Puft Marshmallow Man..."_

"I know we can count on Ray and Winston to mount a counter-attack along with the kids..." Peter replied.

"Not to mention Vincent's men." Egon added.

"Who else can there be?" Jill asked.

"There's the possibility that Bo Holbrook's franchise, Ghostbusters: Nightsquad and the franchise Richard Roy works with could be called into the help out...if the latent PKE at Ground Zero is high enough then Stay Puft could be given a tremendous surge in power." Egon explained.

"Hell knows the number of times the NYPD worked alongside the kids to stop those wackos opening portals to who knows where." Peter replied. On screen, Stay Puft passed the edge of Murray Street and stomped his way down towards the future site of the Freedom Tower.

* * *

**7:32PM EDT**

* * *

A black Cadillac Miller Meteor tore down the street with sirens blazing. It was of similar vintage and make to the original ECTO-1, but in addition to its black paint job, it was adorned with a lot of antennae. The Ghostbuster logo on the doors was painted purple, and the license plate read "ECTO-1X" It was the familiar vehicle of the Nightsquad crew.

"They're heading _where?_" Bo Holbrook did a double take as he gripped the microphone.

_"The World Trade Center..." _Ray's voice came back. _"We're on our way further down the Avenue to set up the traps...but we need you guys to slow him down, and drain as much power as you can. Martin and the rest of the Arcane Division have tried to slow it down, but with little success. The Extreme team...they'll meet you at Barclay Street"_

"Great..." Bo muttered "Like I need them slowing me down..." A chuckle came from one of the two guys in the back seat, causing the other to look at him quizzically.

"Behave". The blonde woman in the passenger seat said to Bo firmly. Which made both men in the back seat chuckle.

The four members of Ghostbusters Nightsquad had just parked and opened their doors when a second Cadillac pulled up. It looked even more like the ECTO-1 driven by the original four Ghostbusters than the ECTO-1X did.

In truth, the vehicle _WAS_ the original ECTO-1, purchased by Ray Stantz in 1983, and retired when the team reunited in late 1988. The original Ghostbusters and their successors had driven the second ECTO-1, briefly known as the ECTO-1A due to the vagarities of license registration law, for the fifteen years since. In 2000, when Vincent Belmont and Gabriel Martin formed their own Ghostbusters franchise, Venkman had given them the original vehicle as a "launch gift"...complete with its non-working engine. It was something it took Ray Stantz a while to forgive him for...the fact that Ray got to help with getting the old girl running again had helped, though.

Bo snorted as the Gabriel Martin, Harry Seward, and Nate Inugami exited the vehicle. Gabe looked positively flushed. His face was beat red and sweaty as if he had been running for a very long time.

"We did what we could," Gabe shouted at Bo as he quickly donned his proton pack, "but that thing has an alternate source of power or something that we're not aware of."

"Or _MAYBE_ your dark arts have empowered it even more..." came the cynnical voice of Kylie Griffin. She was followed quickly by Garrett, and Eduardo.

Gabe looked back and her and scowled, "Listen, little girl," he growled, "you'd better learn to get over-"

"Now is not the time for this, please!" Harry shouted nervously, "Each second we spend doing nothing brings that thing closer and closer to us!"

Bo looked at young Nate Inugami. He was still amazed that they grew Japanese people taller than 6 foot, let alone one that could easily win a toughman competition. Nate's uniform was ragged, and the zipper was busted, as if something had tried to peel him out of his uniform like a banana.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Bo said as he bit off the end of a fresh cigar.

"Uh..." Nate flushed, "Well, you know...the ladies love me!" he grinned as he itched the back of his head.

Bo merely stared at him as he lit his cigar. "Shut up..." he mumbled. "You ladies ready to go?" Bo barked out as he armed the cannon on his quad-super pack.

Gabe tossed Bo an annoyed glance as he armed his proton pack, and drew the proton gun. "I'm sure Little Miss smiles-and-goodness Griffin is quite ready, considering her ignorant commentary...the rest of us have been ready."

"Just keep that asshole out of my damn way..." Garrett muttered, arming his proton pack.

Zac Crago leaned in and muttered in Cliff Roswell's ear. "There something Yeti missing here?"

"Bo and the 'Extreme' kids don't get along...Tom told me the whole story, and I'll tell you later." Cliff replied.

"GENTLEMEN!" Harry cried again, "PLEASE!"

"Another day, another pay, what can I say?" Gabe smirked as he armed his thrower, "God, I wish Vincent was here..."

"Why's that, boss?" Nate asked, as he fastened a proton pack to his back, seemingly having forgotten how the straps actually fasten.

"Because all I have are you assholes for company," Gabe chuckled.

"The gizmo loaded and ready to go?" Eduardo asked Kylie.

Kylie hefted the proton rail gun. "As ready as I get..."

"Good luck, gentlemen," Harry said as he armed his own proton gun.

"You know, we had the black flight suits first..." Bo scowled.

"Bite me." Eduardo retorted.

Jen Spengler coughed loudly. "We're in position, Ray..." she spoke into her cel phone.

_"Winston, Roland, and I aren't there yet, Jen."_ Ray's voice replied. _"Give us at least five minutes if possible"_

"Will do." Jen replied. "Janine?"

_"Get ready...here he comes..."_

None of them needed to be told. The vibrations and the booming, but squishy impacts of Stay Puft's feet were impossible to ignore.

The Ectomobile that carried Ray, Winston, and Eduardo pulled up a block away from the World Trade Center. They all jumped out, and threw open the back door of the car.

"You think this crazy scheme is gonna work, Ray?" Winston asked.

"It has to..." Ray replied, grabbing one of the round, orange traps that Egon and Roland had designed seven years before. "We link every ghost trap, old and new, we can spare into these proton packs...and hope we have enough suction to draw Stay Puft in, and enough power in the plasma cores to hold him long enough to get back to GBCentral..."

"It worked back in 1985, didn't it, Doctor Stantz?" Roland asked, dragging out the proton pack that had been selected to power the trap system. It was one of the Mark 2 packs of like vintage as the round trap-it had been designed to work with the plasma cores, and would provide a necessary focus. Winston drug out two old Mark 1's, the original proton pack design first used when the company first formed. Winston glanced at their serial numbers; it seemed, as though, they were two of the original proton packs that blasted the Marshmallow Man for the first time. After the sense of irony had passed, he checked their energy levels. He and Roland quickly plugged the cyclotrons into the Mark 2 pack.

"These things are still gonna work, right?" Winston asked, "the power supply on these things doesn't go bad, does it? We haven't touched these things in forever."

"No sir," Ray called back as he fished around for cable from the back of the vehicle, "they have a half-life of five thousand years. Even though we need to recharge them, the half-life of the uranium core will last five thousand years before needing to be replaced.

Winston chuckled, "Man, it's like a car battery that will last you 'till the car falls apart. Where can I get me one of those?"

Ray hefted a long length of yellow cable from the back. "Yeah, but like any battery, it can go dead, which is why we need to recharge them, and that we have. I'd _never_ have the firehouse be with a single proton pack that wasn't fully loaded and ready to go."

Ray threw out the conduction cables they'd need. "You know as well as I do that this area is still hot with residual psychokinetic energy...that's why we've had so much trouble keeping the necromancers and other dabblers away from it over the last three years...if Stay Puft is absorbing that energy-and I don't see why not, he's still part of an evil god, no matter how goofy he is-even this may not be enough if Kylie, Gabe, Bo, and the others can't slow him down..."

Roland looked to the north...and realized he could hear the thunderlike stomping of brobdignagian feet...and with that realization, a bead of sweat dropped off of his head.

The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, his face grinning and cheerful, loomed before them.

* * *

_"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be tying into a news unit on the streets of New York while keeping our footage from our helicopter above the scene. We will continue to broadcast until this event has been brought to an end..."_ The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man had now made it to Ground Zero and was grinning happily as several cars were left in varying degrees of squashed and crushed. The camera zoomed in a bit more and they could make out what looked like two ambulances, one white and one black parked at the corner of Church and Vesey streets at the north-east corner of the World Trade Center site. Stood among the two cars was a group of around twelve people.

"Looks like the Nightsquad and Belmont's crew are working with the Extreme sub division of the New York team." Ben Sr. commented.

"That's not going to go down well." Peter replied.

"Indulge me; why is that?" Joey Williams asked.

"Bo Holbrook has had a long-running resentment of the 'Extreme Ghostbusters'...something about who was the first official franchise of GBI." Peter explained.

"Ah." Joey replied as he rolled his eyes and turned back to the screen.

* * *

**7:38PM EDT**

* * *

"On three..." Garrett Miller barked.

"THREE!" the voices of Kylie, Garrett, and Eduardo roared in unison. Garrett Miller, Eduardo Rivera, Jen Spengler, Zac Crago, Cliff Roswell, Gabriel Martin, Harry Seward, and Nate Inugami each sent a proton beam into the sky, hitting the beaming Marshmallow Man.

"You ready, Elvira?" Bo said, arming his oversize Super Pack.

"Don't make me hurt you, Holbrook." Kylie replied, wrinkling her nose.

"Keep fucking with me ya pasty bitch and you won't need that black eyeliner any more" Bo retorted, stomping out his cigar.

Both took aim.

"Yipee Ki-yah, Motherf..."

_KROOM!_

The massive oversize beam of the Super Pack and the plasma cartridge from the rail gun hit the giant creature right between the eyes. The night sky reverberated, as the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man howled in pain, and started to fall backward.

"OH SHIT!" Nate screamed.

"TAKE COVER!" Jen shouted.

"He's falling over! Isn't this good?" an exasperted Bo cried.

"Not when he hits the ground!" Kylie answered.

* * *

"What indignity is this?" the Herald shouted, as the giant Marshmallow Man began to fall backward.

"You ain't seen nothing yet..." a Brooklyn-accented voice snarled, and the Herald was hit with a proton beam.

The Herald flew back some thirty yards, then turned around to face the ECTO-2.

"I don't have time for you..." she gestured offhandedly, and a stream of blue slime flew from her fingers, hitting the ECTO-2.

Janine uttered several curses as the small copter's works began to jam up; she began to angle for a roof nearby. The Herald turned back toward the Marshmallow Man.

* * *

_"We have received word that a combined strike force of Ghostbusters from TriBeCa, SoHo, and Brooklyn will attempt to capture the creature..."_ Agraphic displaying the words: 'Voice of Channel Six Newsreader Vernon Fenwick and outside broadcast reporter David Avington, Channel Six News' appeared on the screen. Within moments of the reporter's words going over the line a series of beams shot up at Stay Puft, then a few moments later a slightly brighter orange beam flared past the others, engulfing the Marshmallow Man's head. The struggle seemed to be working...that was until Stay Puft started to topple over, waving his arms to try prevent the fall as he went.

"Oooh...that's not gonna be good." Roger grimaced. Everyone in the room winced as Stay Puft collided with the street below, causing several windows in nearby buildings to break upon impact with the street. Stay Puft's impact with the street send up a huge cloud which made seeing who was still up and about on the street more difficult. Through the newly-made smoke they could see Stay Puft was trying to pick himself up.

"Yep...not good." Adam agreed.

* * *

Those nearby swore the sound was second only to the wholly human-engineered event nearly three years before.

* * *

**7:42PM EDT**

* * *

Oscar inhaled as the Channel Six feed disappeared into static... _"It appears we've lost our signal...David? Are you still there?" _Jessica Venkman grabbed onto her brother, and held him tightly.

_"I'm...I'm still here, Vernon..." _the newsman said, the picture starting to tentatively reappear. _"The last attack actually staggered the Marshmallow Man...he fell over, and the sound was like a bomb exploding." _

_"Do you have any idea as to the conditions of any of the Ghostbusters?" _

_"I...I can't tell from here, Vernon..."_

"C'mon..." Oscar said out loud. "If anybody can do this, it's Uncle Ray, Uncle Winston, and Aunt Janine..." He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more-Jessica or himself.

* * *

**7:44PM EDT**

* * *

Ray picked himself off the ground, feeling woozy. A gash torn open in his forehead from where he hit the side of the ECTO-1. "What the holy hell just happened?"

Winston was by Roland. "Roland's out cold...I don't see any sign of injury, but he got knocked out."

Ray grabbed his walkie talkie. "Stantz to anybody-do you read? Griffin? Holbrook? Martin? _Anybody?_"

_"ECTO-2 here, Ray...you guys all right?"_

"Janine, what the heck is going on?"

_"They knocked over Stay-Puft. I'm on a rooftop across the street-the bitch who sprung him gummed up the ECTO-2s rotors, and I barely made a landing before he hit..."_

"Kylie and the others...any idea?" Winston asked.

_"No...there's a lot of smoke in the area, I... _holy shit..."

"Janine?"

_"Stay Puft is starting to get up..."_

* * *

The Herald smiled. "The Corpus is not so easily stopped...not with the lingering scent of death in the air here..."

"The corruption of religions pays off so much better than even the Infernal Master himself forsaw..." Ragnarok noted, with a tinge of glee.

"The ritual?"

"It is almost time, Milady..."

* * *

Ray looked up to see a news helicopter as he plugged in the last connection. "It's connected, Winston-fire it up!"

Winston jabbed the arming switches on the two Mark 1 proton packs, producing the familiar hum of alpha particles being agitated.

"HERE HE COMES!" Ray cried, as the familiar giant form appeared out of the smoke. He was no longer cute, either-the combined blasts from Bo and Kylie's weapons had melted his face away, revealing a charred skull that was still aflame with burning marshmallow. The giant creature howled in anger and pain.

"STAY PUFT...HURT...NOT LIKE THAT..."

"Now, Ray!" Winston shouted.

Ray stomped the activator pedal that had been attached to the trap array. The ghost traps sprung open in unison, filling the darkening skies with their white light.

* * *

_"Stay Puft...hurt...not like that." _Stay Puft's booming voice just managed to come out of the TV's speakers. Suddenly a series of bright white lights shot up into action, causing the cloud to light up, the whole spectacle resembled a large cloud of light which looked like something from a sci fi B-movie.

"Looks like a series of linked Ghost Traps." Eric Rose commented. The trick seemed to be working, Stay Puft's form began to destabilize and pour into the traps...but then something happened.

* * *

Ragnarok gestured. "In the name of Volguus...for the glory of Wyrmus Magnus..."

_**"Kalibah...Pargon...Redgormor...Pargon...Obilekth...Pargon...Volguus...Pargon!"**_ Ragnarok chanted, his voice hissed, carrying on the winds throughout the entire city.

Below, in the streets, an onlooker grinned. He took off his tie and threw it to the ground, and tore his shirt open. He stared at the strange symbol tatooed on his chest, and began to whisper, and his voice gradually grew, joining Ragnarok's. He drew several stares from nervous onlookers.

_**"Kalibah Pargon Redgormor Pargon Obilekth Pargon Volguus Pargon!"**_

An old man, sitting on a bench in Central Park sat up upon hearing a whispering on the wind. He smiled, and began chuckling softly to himself, as he unbottoned his shirt, exposing a tattoo upon his chest. He dropped his bag of birdfeed, scattering the pidgeons he was feeding into the wind. He began to wheeze the familiar words as his voice joined the others...

_**"Kalibah Pargon Redgormor Pargon Obilekth Pargon Volguus Pargon!"**_

A young woman stepped out of a taxi cab and stared up at the form of Stay-Puft, hearing a whispering in the wind. She beamed, gleefully, peeling up her shirt sleeve, revealing a nightmarish tattoo. She began to repeat the words she heard, barely containing her own maniacal laughter as she raised her voice to the blasphemous stacatto...

_**"Kalibah Pargon Redgormor Pargon Obilekth Pargon Volguus Pargon!"**_

Ragnarok breathed in, taking in the sound of the city. Voices from all over carried their cries to the sky. It was beautiful to him. He looked to the Herald, and she smiled as well. They raised their arms to the sky, and cried out in unison, "Give us your souls! Leap into the arms of Volguus Zildrohar! Go to him! Give your life to call upon him! Release yourselves from the world and lend us your power!"

One by one, each of the Gozerites that revealed themselves drew daggers from their purses and pockets...

_**"Kalibah Pargon Redgormor Pargon Obilekth Pargon Volguus Pargon!"**_

...and stabbed themselves, cutting upward into themselves, spilling their own blood onto the ground as their frenzied chanting ceased. The chanting was replaced by the horrified screams of people yelling for help, and frantic calls for an ambulence. With the invocation of the final activation phrase, an unnatural wind began to howl around them all.

* * *

"It's working!" Ray shouted.

"Come on...just a little more!" Winston coaxed the equipment. Several sparks had begun to play around the junction. Stay Puft howled as his whole form began to destabilize...chunks began to pull off and fly into the trap beams.

Then an unnatural howling filled their ears.

"What the f..." Winston shouted.

Red lightning danced across the clouds in the sky, and the sun eclipsed to the blackest of night. A swirling mass of ghostly green energy swirled up towards the heavens, like a great tornado, parting the clouds, and the very sky above it. They looked around to see the sky splitting apart, an angry purple whirlpool of energy swirling within the cauldron of black storm clouds.

_A dimensional rift... _Ray realized.

He would swear, if for only a moment, the vaguest image formed in the portal...it was a face; featureless and emotionless. It quickly twisted into a face of fury as it opened its gaping mouth and bellowed. The terrible sound that emitted from its mouth reverberated throughout the sky, and resonated for miles. It sounded like the high pitched screech of an enormous bird of prey, and its amplified sound made everyone in the city cover their ears.

The makeshift device linking the traps exploded, sending sparks and shrapnel in all directions.

The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man uttered a burbling scream as his partially distended form began to be sucked toward the portal. Several of the other Ghostbusters appeared, still woozy from the shock of Stay Puft's fall.

"Doctor Stantz! Mister Zeddemore!" Cliff shouted.

"Don't get any closer! The particle flow of that portal has reversed, it..." Ray started to say, before the howling winds picked him up off the ground.

"Oh damn!" Winston cursed, as he too was ripped from the ground.

"We gotta do something!" Eduardo shouted through the winds.

Jen armed her thrower. "We could invert the flow through the gate like Uncle Egon and the others did in '83...cross the streams."

"But Ray and Winston would be caught in the ensuing explosion!" Gabriel shouted at her, barely audible through the roar of the hurricane-force winds, "I have an idea! Just sit tight!"

Harry hung on to the door of the Ecto-1 as Nate Inugami grabbed Jen Spengler and Cliff Roswell, stuffing them into the back. Zac grabbed Eduardo, whose footing was slipping out from under him.

"Hang on!" Eduardo said, grabbing Kylie, and holding her tightly in his arms.

Jen spared one last glance as she tried to reach cover... She saw Stay Puft, Ray Stantz, and Winston Zeddemore pulled into the angry purple portal's maw.

Kylie watched as Gabriel reached into the Ecto-1 and produced a large leatherbound book, and began flipping through pages, holding them tightly, for fear of the fragile paper tearing.

"NO!" she screamed in horror, "NONE OF YOUR WARLOCKRY!"

"SHUT UP, KID!" Gabe shouted as he stretched out his hand. "I GOTTA CLOSE THAT THING BEFORE IT STARTS TAKING CIVILIANS!"

_**"Obsignare, rima tempi et intervallia!"**_ he shouted in a bold and powerful voice that could easily be heard now over the winds. There was a crackle of electricity that shot through Gabe's hand. A dull yellow light emitted from Gabe's body as several motes of golden light whirled around him, orbiting him in strange patterns. Gabe's hand burst into a stacatto of light and strange wailing sounds as a geometric pattern formed in the air in front of his outstretched fingers. The pattern looked as though it were an oddly shaped pentacle missing a few of its sides, set within a ring made of strange, alien lettering. _**"Exturbare malum laudatio innatus ordo!" **_He shouted amongst Kylie's pleas. The others looked on in awe as the strange circle of light hung in the air, revolving around hypnotically. Gabe made strange, sweeping gestures as the light grew brighter and flared for a moment. **"FINITE, INCANTATEM!" **He roared, as the sky crackled with red lightning. A swirling mass of yellowish vapors sailed upward, like a great funnel cloud, seeping into the gaping maw of the portal. And with that, as suddenly as it began, the winds dissipated.

The hole in the sky was gone.

* * *

_"...ladies and gentlemen...whatever happened...the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is gone...but at what price for the Ghostbusters?"_ Vernon finally spoke, a note of genuine concern cracking through his journalistic objectivity.

Oscar Wallance and Jessica Venkman looked at the screen in mute shock and fear.

* * *

"Dad!" Eric cried at the screen, before he fell to the floor and started crying.

"He...he and Uncle Winston will be all right..." John said pleadingly. "They gotta be all right. They're all right, aren't they Aunt Dana?"

Dana Venkman wiped a tear out of her own eye. "I...I don't know..."

Eden hugged her friend tightly, her own blue eyes starting to wetten. Louis Tully pulled his glasses off and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

There was a bright strobe of purple light as the frantic camera man whipped the camera wildly up to the sky.

_"Something's happening...it looks...my God...what the HELL is THAT!" _The frantic reported commented. There was a large hole in the sky, and thick black clouds danced around it, as a giant featureless face pushed out of the clouds. The screen filled up with static as the sound cut off from a surge of noise.

"Bugger." Iain swore. "It didn't work." On screen they watched as Stay Puft screamed as his form was sucked towards the rift, on the ground the group of people who could only be the Ghostbusters who'd been seen earlier reconverged and watched as the large cartoonish entity was broken up. Debris, and what looked like bodies flew up into the giant hole in the sky.

"Shit." Peter swore.

_"The people down there...it looks as though some people have been pulled into... are being pulled into...into...that...my God...!"_ The reporter replied, trying to find a decent way to describe what he was seeing. _"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm...utterly speechless."_

The Ghostbusters in Britain could only watch as the group of Ghostbusters split up, presumably for cover as smaller, lighter street furnishing followed the two people into the void. As the two people and objects went, the last big white globs of Stay Puft hurtled into the void. Seven minutes after the portal had opened it vanished again in a flash of light leaving a stunned British audience watching at GBUK HQ.

_"...ladies and gentlemen...whatever happened...the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is gone...but at what price for the Ghostbusters?"_ Vernon finally spoke.

* * *

Janine looked at the abruptly quiet scene, fighting off the urge to either scream or puke up her lunch.

_"Mrs. Spengler? You still there?"_

Janine didn't know what to do. Cliff had repeated the same question four times before she hesitantly answered the radio.

"I'm here, Cliff...go ahead..."

_"We've gotten everyone accounted for, no life-threatening injures...Roland took a bad hit, and Dr. Seward says he should probably go to the hospital to make sure he isn't concussed...and the ECTO-1X was knocked on it's side, so you can imagine the filth coming out of Bo's mouth right now."_

"Yeah..." she nodded, joylessly. "I'll...I'll be down there as soon as I can. Make sure everyone knows I'm all right."

_"Will do, Ma'am."_

She stuck the walkie-talkie back on her utility belt, and spared one last look at the spot in the sky where two of her oldest friends in the world-her brothers in all but the most literal sense of the word-had vanished only moments before.

_"Adonai...keep them safe..."_

And then, inevitably, came the tears...

* * *

**11:23PM GMT**

* * *

Ben King Sr typed away as he wrote up a report of his findings, however he paused when a pop-up chimed for his attention.

_You have received a new message._

Ben dropped and saved what he was doing and opened the email, it contained the following message:

_"To: _

_From: _

_Subject: Your auction request\par _

_Dear Mr King, _

_It wasn't in any way easy, but I have found the record of the auction you requested...those architectural documents helped narrow it down significantly. The auction details are as follows: _

_Lot No. 539 _

_Description: A gothic hound statue, believed to be of Victorian construction, at an estimated value of around £250,000, discovered in an abandoned quarry south of London. _

_I also have access to a set of notes made upon the discovery and collection of the statue...the statue was recovered from a quarry south of London known interestingly as 'Tonnes Quarry'...it was purchased in the auction by a man who later had it shipped to America...more precisely, California...however if there's anything more you need then it'd require more time. _

_I hope that has satisfied your query. _

_Yours Sincerely, _

_Daniel Sampson." _

"Yes." Ben cheered, he then printed off a copy of the email, grabbed it from the printer and charged off to Iain's Lab.

* * *

**11:38PM GMT**

* * *

"Guys...I've got the name of the quarry." Ben spoke as he entered the lab, catching everyone's attention. Iain had been busy performing some more tests on Sarah while Fritz, Jeff and Egon had been working on getting the book finished.

"Oh?" Egon asked.

"Yeah...I was going through some of my books yesterday and I found a photo of one of those Terror Dog statues...I phoned the auction house who sold it...I didn't say anything until I could give you guys some hard data...but now I can..." he explained.

"Go on." Fritz said, anxiously awaiting Ben to continue.

"Okay...it seems that a little while after our nutball got put in here one of the statues was collected by Alister Auctions in London and sold to a man who had it shipped to California in... 1939..." Ben continued.

"Hmm...it would explain why there was a Terror Dog in LA." Fritz agreed.

"And why it'd be ready to meet Jeremy in LA...it must've busted out of it's stone skin only a few days before the Anubis bust." Jeff replied thoughtfully.

"And it being Hollywood...the tourists would sooner think it's a film promotion then an actual monster."

"Indeed." Egon agreed. "However...it raises the question, why wasn't the second statue sold?"

"No idea...they didn't say...there wasn't even mention of a second statue in the original listing... but as I said...we know the name of the quarry...Tonnes Quarry...somewhere south of London." Ben reported.

"'Tonnes'?" Sarah echoed. "I know that place...my father purchased it about five years back."

"He did?" Iain asked in surprise.

"Yes...he was thinking of turning it into a museum of the mining industry...it's about a half hour outside of London, along one of the A-routes."

"Thank you Sarah, Ben...we can now send a team to the site should Jeremy manage to re-awaken Zuul." Egon replied.

* * *

**Location: Avalon? Time: Unknown, 1 hour after arrival. **

* * *

It was finally after an hour upon Vincent's arrival that he found a small trail amongst the tangled trees of the woods. The forest was so black that he was completely unable to see more that a few feet from himself. He stood outside the woods for a moment, and stared in at the gaping maw of trees. It beckoned him forward, only if to whet his curiosity. He shuddered as he was suddenly reminded of the deep-sea "angler fish." The very forest of the island wanted to swallow him whole. He felt an uneasy chill. He pulled his duster on tighter as he stepped into the trees.

Vincent walked no more than a few feet before he had second thoughts. As he pushed deeper into the woods, it grew colder, until the very chill of the air was seen in his short breaths. In fact, that was all that Vincent could see...his own breath. He felt cold, and alone. Still, he pushed on through the trees.

His unease as he pushed through the foliage was magnified by his feeling of being watched. Vincent thought of shifting his perceptions into **"wizard sight," **but he dared not, for he feared what he might see. He knew something waited for him beyond the trees. He heard it breathing. Trying his best to ignore it, Vincent pressed on; taking each stride through the foliage as quietly and as quickly as he could manage.

* * *

**Location: Avalon? Time: Unknown, 1 hour and 15 minutes after arrival **

* * *

Vincent turned around to look behind him, and saw nothing. He couldn't even see the path he was walking on. The shore, and any sign of light and comfort had completely departed. He did not produce any light of his own, for fear of being noticed by something undesirable.

Vincent stopped. He held his breath in as he scanned the blackness around him. He listened to the slight rustle of the breeze through the trees. He listened to his shallow breaths as he beagn to breathe once again. He even listened to the quickened beating of his heart. His pulse raced as he felt a drop of sweat run the length of his cheek. His blood turned to ice, and his heart nearly stopped as he head something else...

...breathing. Yet the raspy breathing was not his own, and of that, there was more than one...it was more like "ten." Vincent had guessed then that it was the sound of about ten terrible things waiting to strike at him from the darkness.

Vincent needed light. He needed something to chase away the gloom of the forest, to light his path, and perhaps keep whatever might be watching him away.

There was a sudden rustling in the bushes to his left. Vincent looked to his left with a start, and then to his right. He stood perfectly still. He dared not even breathe. He just stood there, motionless. His heart rate not only started up again, but quickened pace.

He felt a presence there with him. There WAS something there with him, and it was not alone. He felt the hairs on his neck stand up, as he felt a quick, icy draft blow on the back of his neck.

Something was behind him...

Vincent opened his hand out in front of him, and held his palm up. He whispered the words of his spell, ever so softly. He tried not to think about what was behind him. He tried not to think about what it was that was watching him. He thought only of completing this incantation. His skin grew cold as he broke into a sweat. He gestured ever so slowly. It seemed to take forever and a day...

_**"Ego advocare ad meum manum Magum Tadeam! Ignis arcanus, purgare rica de fallacia, et evulgare tuum veram formam! Perforare caecus murus intermundum!"**_

With the final words of the spell, an eldritch humming, like a chorus of disembodied men, humming a single rich baritone note echoed throughout the woods. With a spectacular burst of light the entire forest around Vincent lit up in a flash, and an eerie blue flame erupted from Vincent's upturned palm. Vincent let out a yelp as he saw several black humanoid shapes loom before his eyes. He had no time to see anything distinguishing as he heard the terrified screeches of the inhuman creatures, and the black shadowy horrors retreated into the forest beyond the light of the flame Vincent now carried. At once, the forest was alive with the rustling of retreating figures, and the harsh, vulgar whispers of the offended creatures.

Vincent surveyed his surroundings in the light of the blue flame. The forest again became quiet, but the light was no more comforting. He knew that the creatures were still there, just beyond the light of the flame, waiting for it to go out.

Vincent continued his trek, but stepped lightly as he saw the shadows writhe around him. Everything stood on the outside of that small radius of light. They waited for him.

* * *

**Location: Avalon? Time: Unknown, 2 hours and 35 minutes after arrival **

* * *

Vincent came upon a clearing in the trees. His arm still held aloft, carrying the eldritch fire he used to light his path. He could even look up and see the night sky. The sight of the stars was a great comfort, and he sat down upon a large rock in the clearing. For the first time since he got off the boat, Vincent felt tired...very tired. He felt as though he had been walking for days. More so, he was famished.

He knew why he was hungry. He knew that the use of magic drained the human body of its energy and its nutrients. He needed to eat, and cursed himself for not having the foresight to pack a bite to eat before he came. He then realized that he never had the time to do so. In fact, he remembered being chased by hit wizards, intent on killing him. He also realized that he had no clue how long he was afloat before sailing up to this haunted isle. He felt the subtle tingling in the tips of his fingers. It was a sure sign that he needed food.

A sharp pang hit his stomach as he thought of sustenance...

He looked to see what was in his satchel, but found nothing but what he had bought from Egg Shen at Arcane Alley.

_"What I wouldn't give for something to eat_," he thought to himself, "_a warm plate of chicken curry, perhaps a plate of sushi..."_ Vincent's stomach growled. He felt sleepy. "_Warm muffins with sweet butter...a side of roast...eggs and bacon...a pizza with the works..."_ A hunger pang shot through Vincent. His eyes grew heavy. "_Some of that sweet warm tea I had with Mr. Hurt at his bookstore..."_

Vincent yawned as he laid his head back on the rock, he did not notice the flame in his hand diminish. His eyes grew heavy, and the world around him seemed to fade into blackness. He felt a swimming euphoria as his body began to grow cold.

* * *

F32136-60504y

056


	13. JUne 8, 2004 Part 1

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

**

* * *

**

June 8th, 2004  
The End of the World

* * *

**England, 1:18 AM **

* * *

"NOOOOOO!" Jill Valentine howled as awoke with a start, "No, please! Stop!"

"NOT VINCENT!" she screamed. "VINCENT! WAKE UP!"

She continued to wail at the top of her lungs. Tears streamed from her eyes as she crawled out of her sweat-soaked sheets. She curled up on the end of the bed and cried. She wanted it all to end. She wanted her nightmare to go away. She wanted to be home, and she wanted to see Vincent again.

It was only moments before the door to her room burst open. Iain Bennet came tumbling in, waving his custom proton pistol in every direction. He was followed shortly by Tommy Simpson and Jeff Nash, both looking wildly around the room. Fritz, too, poked his head into the room, slowly passing the doorframe, holding aloft his PKE meter, scanning the room before his eyes came to rest on the cowering Jill Valentine.

Fritz quickly sat down at the foot of the bed and placed the PKE meter on the nightstand. Several other Ghostbusters gathered outside the door, trying to peek in. Rosey Collins pushed her way through the crowd and into the room.

"Miss Valentine!" Fritz shouted, grabbing Jill by the shoulders, "Miss Valentine!" he shouted again. He shook her slightly, and watched her labored breathing relax as she began to scan the room, as if waking from a vicious nightmare.

Rosey sat on the foot of Jill's bed, and placed her arm around her. Fritz leaned back.

"Are you alright, Miss Valentine?" Fritz asked her, looking into her eyes.

Jill only whimpered as she stared blankly at Fritz, and then to Rosey, and then to the other men crowding her room.

"Was it a nightmare, dear?" Rosey asked.

"V...Vincent..." Jill muttered, barely able to breathe more than a whisper, "...Vincent. Something's happened to Vincent..."

Fritz moved in front of Jill and looked into her eyes.

"It was just a nightmare, Miss Valentine," Fritz reassured her, "...just a nightmare."

Jill only shook her head slightly.

"It was only a nightmare, Miss Valentine. Vincent isn't in danger. He's fine. He's just out making a last minute preparation, and he'll be back shortly." Fritz explained. He felt bad, however, for he knew that it was a lie. In truth, he knew that he had no clue where Vincent had run off to, nor any knowledge of his safety.

"Remember the things that Vincent can do, hon," Ben King Sr. chimed in from the back row, "I don't pretend to understand all that wizard stuff. I do know that he can take care of himself."

"Hell," Iain said, matter-of-factly, "there isn't bloody well shit I've seen that Ol' Belmont COULDN'T do."

Jill only looked around at those speaking to her.

"Yeah," Fritz smiled, "in fact, he'll probably _thrash_ us when he gets back for looking at his lady dressed in nothing but a noodle-string belly shirt and a pair of boxer shorts!"

A chuckle rippled through the crowd of concerned Ghostbusters, easing everyone's mood. Jill even managed a weak smile.

"On that note, Valentine," Jeff Nash said, pointing an outstretched finger in her direction from his folded arms, "you don't look so good."

Rosey looked more closely at Jill. Her face was white as her bedsheets, and she was still sweating profusely. Rosey placed a hand to Jill's forehead.

"Jill, dear," she said, "you're burning up!"

Fritz adjusted his glasses and turned to Ben Sr.

"We need some cold water and an ice pack, Ben. Could we get something for her?" he asked.

Ben merely waved his hand, already on his way out the door.

"Already ahead of you..." he called back.

Iain stood up and turned around to the crowd. He began waving his arms, ushering them out.

"C'mon, mates," he said, " give the lady some room, will ya? Move along, then."

The crowd backed out into the hall, and began to disperse down the halls, going back to what they were doing, all asking each other questions about what they had just witnessed. Rosey stayed in the room to keep Jill company, while Jeff and Fritz were the last to leave the room. Outside the door, Egon Spengler and Peter Venkman stood, waiting expectantly with their arms folded, and with Egon holding a PKE meter; something Fritz began to wonder was actually attatched to his hand or not. While Egon looked concerned over the situation, Peter looked as though he were still hung over from the night before.

"Is she alright?" Egon asked.

"Yeah," Fritz said, looking at his PKE meter, "she looks like she wrestled with one hell of a nightmare, but something concerns me, though."

"I would surmise that you were able to read that little PKE spike, as well?" Egon mused.

"Yes," Fritz agreed, "right before Iain rammed the door, I caught a small bit of PKE activity coming from the room. The signature was faint, but I'm sure it came from Jill."

"Hmmm..." Egon wondered, staring again at the PKE meter's blank screen, "...fascinating."

...

...

All four men stood in the hall, silent, until Jeff broke the awkward pause.

"Ya know," he said, "I've often heard of this phenomenon called "_lucid dreaming." _It can include shared dreaming with people you have a special connection to. Maybe Belmont IS in trouble, and she's gettin' some sort of "psychic SOS" or something. I mean, they're lovers, right?"

All of their expressions became grim.

"I wonder..." Fritz mumbled.

"Wonder what?" Egon asked.

"Obviously, we know that before an earthquake hits, you'll feel a slight tremor before the quake?" Fritz aked.

"Yeah..." Jeff grunted.

"Well, there's been a lot of strange crap going on...and I'm wondering if we're just feeling that tremor now...before the quake?"

"This could only be the beginning...our strange night visitor...Miss Valentine's nightmare" Egon interjected.

"You sure know how to paint a rosy picture, Fritzy...all I know is I missed something about Jill in a noodlestring bellyshirt and boxers..." Peter yawned.

Egon, Fritz, and Jeff looked at each other for a moment, trying to puzzle out whether Venkman had anything relevant to add in his absurd and inappropriate commentary. Ben King Sr. joined them in the hall, carrying a small bowl of cold water, a washcloth, and a bag of ice. All of the men turned to stare at him. Ben looked rather taken aback.

"Ummm...is there something I can do for you gents?" Ben asked, utterly befuddled.

* * *

**Location: Avalon? Time: Unknown, 2 hours and 35 minutes after arrival **

* * *

_"VINCENT! WAKE UP!"_

Vincent awakened with a start, and looked in horror to see something sitting upon his chest as he slept. It was a gaunt humanoid creature, with skin as black as the forest. It had its long fingers wrapped around Vincent's head, and its touch chilled Vincent to the bone. Its mouth, terrible to behold, was a large, gaping maw. The orifice was toothless, and its lower jaw hung down, seemingly unattached to its head. More terrible still was its eyes; two sunken recesses, even darker than its obsidian skin, with only two small greenish lights as its eyes, barely larger than fireflies.

It breathed in with heavy labored breaths, as if it were desperate to breathe, but couldn't. Vincent found, to his horror, that it was he who could not breathe.

Vincent struggled to reach into his satchel as he stared into the face of the vile creature. His fingers reached into the satchel and drew out a small leather bag. Feeling his strength leave his body, he forced his index finger into the bag, opening the draw string enough to fit his hand into the bag. It was by sheer force of will that allowed Vincent to whip the bag into the face of his captor, spilling out a strange glittering dust onto the creature.

The creature recoiled, and rolled off of Vincent, rolling around on the ground, holding its face. Sickening green smoke roiled out from under its fingers as it clutched its face in pain. Its inhuman howls echoed in the night.

Vincent got to his feet, feeling his strength quickly return to him. As he watched the creature writhe on the ground, he realized its nature, and its name. He withdrew another object from his satchel; a small dagger.

_**"Magicus de Nympham deminuere per ferreum, Ego vincire tuum!" **_Vincent shouted as he threw the dagger into the dirt where the creature lay.

"Human magic is forbidden here, Sorcerer!" the creature hissed. It's croaking voice sounded labored, and it could only speak no louder than a whisper.

"You are one of the fey folk, aren't you?" Vincent snapped at it, "You are a Sluagh...a stealer of men's souls!"

"This is the isle of Oberon!" the Sluagh hissed back, "You are tresspassing!"

"This isle doesn't belong to the faeries. This isle is the resting place of the kingdom of Camelot, and the wizard, Merlin Ambrosius." Vincent retorted.

"This isle was once a part of Arcadia, sorcerer..."

There was a long silence.

"Why have you come to this place, sorcerer?" the Sluagh asked.

"I seek the wizard, Merlin Ambrosius." Vincent stated, plainly.

"You will find nothing here but death, sorcerer!" it hissed, its unhinged jaw swaying sickeningly from side to side.

Vincent raised an eyebrow, and reached again for the strange bag of powder that he had used on the creature before.

"WAIT!" the creature pleaded, "Wait...stay your hand, son of man, for you have already bound me. That wicked powder would kill me. It burns our kind."

"And give me a good reason why I shouldn't..." Vincent growled, "...you tried to feed on my soul. That sorta pisses me off."

"I would show you where the enchanter you seek sleeps!" it cried out in its weak rasp, "I'll take you through the secret paths, and I will bid my kind to lay no hand upon you!"

Vincent's hand slid into the bag.

"You have bound me already! I can do you no harm! Show mercy, sorcerer!"

Vincent retracted his hand from the bag, and pulled the draw string on it, and placed it back in his satchel.

* * *

**2:45AM GMT **

* * *

Night had descended upon the GBUK HQ building and most people slept. All people that was, except Egon Spengler, Jeff Nash, Fritz Baugh and Iain Bennett who were were trying to get the last remnants of the book translated before dawn of the 8th. The hallways and rooms of the building were quiet, as quiet as the grave. That is, until a loud claxon began to sound and red lights began to flash.

"Damn." Iain swore and got up so quickly from the table he made the stool he had been sitting on topple over. The four Ghostbusters charged out into the hallway. "The Containment Unit's breaching...Egon...I'll need someone to monitor the 'Unit in case there's more damage then I'm expecting."

"Agreed." Egon spoke and they both ran towards the door to the kitchen which would eventually lead to the basement. Fritz and Jeff were left in the hallway as the sirens continued to blare.

"I'm going back to the lab." Fritz shouted and Jeff nodded in understanding. A few moments later several of the formerly sleeping people upstairs began to migrate down into the lobby. Tommy came first, followed by Sarah, Ben Sr and Joey.

"Did someone drop off another midnight surprise?" Joey asked as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

"Is someone down there?" Tommy asked, knowing full well that the sirens related to the Containment Unit and not a security breech, or even a fire.

"Yeah...Iain and Egon are sorting it." Jeff explained, jerking a thumb in the direction the two Ghostbusters had vanished.

"Good..." Tommy nodded his approval. Suddenly there was a loud _whoosh_ and Jeremy stepped through a newly-formed portal into the Reception Area.

"Shit." Ben swore, he grabbed onto Sarah's hand and pulled her away from the staircase. Tommy and Joey grabbed whatever they could find as Eric and Adam, who'd been coming down the staircase leapt over the rail and vanished in the direction of the basement, presumably the Armoury. Ben and Sarah vanished through the wood and glass door in the direction of the labs as Tommy tried to club Jeremy with a coat stand from the Reception, Jeremy in turn grabbed the end of the coat stand, wrestled it out of Tommy's hands and used it to clobber him around the gut, sending him sprawling to the floor. Jeff tried to attack using one of the heavy table lamps but was sent staggering back by a kick to the gut which knocked the wind out of him. Joey, brandishing a notice-board he'd taken down from the wall, entered the fight with the intent to clobber Jeremy in the head with the thing. However Jeremy, having turned in time to see the attack seized Joey by his neck and lifted him off of the floor.

"Je...Jeremy." Joey managed to wheeze. "For...God's sake...put me down."

"I'll allow you that wish...mortal." Jeremy replied and then flung Joey over the reception desk, taking out the computer monitor as he went.

"That does it." Jeff replied. "You may be in my friend's body...but like the song says 'With Karate, I'll kick your ass'." Jeff replied as he took up a fighting stance. However even the best fighter wouldn't have been able to stand up to Jeremy's next attack, with the wave of a hand Jeremy sent Jeff flying back and crashing into the door, sending broken frosted glass and wood panelling crashing to the floor. "Dirty trick." Jeff muttered as Jeremy walked past. Fritz slid out of the doorway of Iain's lab after hearing the noise. His eyes went wide as soon as he saw Jeremy and he vanished back into the lab, a few minutes later he returned with a Proton Pack he knew didn't hold a total charge.

"Stop or I'll be forced to shoot." Fritz replied sternly. Jeremy studied him with a look which bordered on near curiosity but then laughed. Fritz then fired and the beam struck Jeremy, making Jeremy stumble back. "You've used a lot of your energy in this...portalling into the basement...doing whatever you did to their Containment Unit...then dispatching the others...you don't have a great deal or power left."

"Foolish mortal." Jeremy spat and he swung his arm up and released a blast of purple energy from his right hand, the force of the blast was so intense that the metal watch on his right arm split along its strap and clattered to the floor. He then aimed the blast at Fritz and released a volley of energy, Fritz, to his credit was able to dodge several of the blasts as they seared the wall behind him and release several shots from his Proton Gun. However the shots Jeremy had released had caught him into a disadvantage of location and Jeremy picked off his gun and knocking Fritz back through the door of Iain's Lab. Jeremy then turned his attention to the closed door of a room marked LAB: Simpson. He sent a purple blast at the door and it exploded into the room, provoking a surprised: "Woah!" Jeremy stepped into the darkened room and peered around. He then spotted Ben and Sarah hidden behind a large table.

"Get away from her, mortal." Jeremy demanded, his eyes now glowing bright red.

"Not doing, mate." Ben replied as he stood up.

"What threat do you offer? You are weaponless..."

"I still have a job to stop you." Ben countered. "I can't let you take her."

"Pathetic." Jeremy replied. He then raised an arm and sent Ben crashing into a white board behind him.

"You...know...that wasn't the best thing you could...do." Ben replied, spitting some blood as he pulled himself up.

"The mortal resists?" Jeremy asked in some surprise. "He is defiant...yes...nearly as defiant as my host...no matter...you will fall as easily." Jeremy raised his hand once more and brought the white board crashing down onto Ben. "Now...Gate Keeper...you shall awaken." Jeremy spoke as he narrowed his gaze on Sarah.

"Get away from me you freak." She said as she got up and ran for the door, however she was prevented from escaping when Jeremy snagged her right arm and swung her around until she faced him. He then kissed her and she resisted for a few minutes before she complied and they shared the embrace. They then broke the kiss.

"Key master." She purred in a daze.

"Gate Keeper." He returned. "You aren't fully awakened yet...but when you are we shall bring forth our master." He replied and then raised a hand, pointed it at empty air and then a portal opened. With the woman now willing he led them both towards the portal, and then through it. Once they'd stepped through it, the portal closed behind them. Outside Fritz limped into the doorway.

"Oww...anyone get the number of the black cab that hit me?" Ben asked as he shoved the white board off of himself and used a desk to pull himself up.

"Sarah's not here?" Fritz asked as he adjusted his glasses.

"Damn...looks like Jeremy got her." Ben replied as he wiped blood off of his mouth.

"This is extraordinarily bad." Fritz commented.

"No shit, Sherlock." Ben agreed. Moments later Egon and Iain returned.

"What's happened here?" Egon asked, visibly concerned.

"Jeremy...Vinz...he's gotten Sarah and they're gone." Ben replied. The remaining Ghostbusters were now filtering downstairs, Adam helped keep Joey stable while Eric had Jeff stretched across both of his shoulders and his feet dragging along the floor.

"It's begun." Egon spoke. "The coming of Gozer is at hand." The rest of the group shared worried glances, they knew what would most likely come next.

* * *

**Location: Avalon, Time: Unknown, 4 hours after arrival **

* * *

Vincent followed the strange creature through the forest for what seemed like forever. It seemed almost ape-like with its shambling gait. It spoke to him the entire way, telling him about the isle of Avalon...

_"Avalon was once a realm of the faeries, Sorcerer, yes. It belonged to the noble sidhe, and great Oberon held his court here. It wasn't until the Enchanter came that the humans did, with their great castle of gold. Camelot. Camelot is the name of the accursed city. It is a realm of man and his God, a realm unfit for faeries. The city of gold chased out the sidhe, and the darker things came to play. Yes... The darker things. Camelot has shut its gates. The way is shut. Camelot sleeps; Oberon's curse, it is. Only the Enchanter sleeps of his own will._"

Vincent and the creature reached a clearing in the trees, and stopped at a small grove. For the first time sice he set foot on the isle, Vincent saw green. The colors here were brighter, from the grass on the ground, to the leaves of the trees. There was a small waterfall that cascaded with blue water from the small cliff face that stood before them. He saw the crystalline water reflect the light of the moon, casting a comforting glow to the surrounding area. Beyond the waterfall, Vincent could see an obvious cave entrance.

"You are here, sorcerer, please do what you have come to do and leave. I cannot hurt you, but I do not think the others of my kind will listen to my words. It is dangerous here. Leave quickly!"

Vincent felt a presence here other than himself and his dark fey companion. It was sinister, yet, not as the Sluaugh would be. No; this was something different entirely.

"Wait..." Vincent interrupted suddenly, as he waved at the creature to silence it, "...something's here..."

Both Vincent and the Sluagh looked around. Vincent stared into the trees behind him as the creature next to him sniffed the air. It's head snapped up, like a bloodhound, catching the scent of the uninvited guest.

Before it could do anything, however, the creature let out a howl of pain and agony as Vincent saw it's body emit a plume of greenish smoke as its twisted form dissolved into a shadowy puddle. Startled, Vincent looked around frantically.

A voice chuckled from the trees.

"The Sands of Suleiman," the voiced drawled, "I have some of that, too..._very_ effective against things not of the earth..."

"Who's there?" Vincent shouted, "Show yourself!"

"Thank you for leading me here, Dr. Belmont," said an oily voice from the shadows of the trees, "when I have the staff of the great Merlin, nothing will stop the summoning of Gozer!"

Out from the trees, stepped a pale and gangly man. His thin features were almost skeletal, with his skin being stretched over his face like old leather. His oily black hair was slicked back, and his hair was pulled into a ponytail. His black smoking jacket and vest were adorned with a number of talismans, and an all too familiar pin; a pin with the symbol of the Order of Hermes. His face twisted into an evil cheshire grin as he stared at Vincent with his blood red eyes.

Vincent shook his head in disbelief.

"You..." he whispered.

* * *

**Atlantic Ocean, HMS Northumberland, 15 miles off the coast of England, 5:00AM GMT **

* * *

Dark waters lapped against the steel hull of HMS Northumberland, darker then any of it's woken crew had ever seen, but that seemed to be part of the odd climate that the vessel's crew were witnessing as they slowly made their way to port.

Admiral Sir Alen West of the Royal Navy rested his hands on the railing of one of the ship's decks as he looked out at the vast blue ocean and frowned, he didn't like it, he'd been awakened by one of the other crew members who had spotted some very unusual weather activity and had come up on deck as soon as he'd been notified. He adjusted his peaked cap and zipped up his dark blue jacket, the air had grown eeirly chilly for June, even on the open water. He reached for the pair of binoculars that hung from his neck and used them to look west, noting the black stormclouds that lined the western skies and were making a good job of blotting out the moon.

"Sir!" Admiral West turned to face an ensign, a fresh faced youth who was holding a crumpled sheet of paper with complex-looking barometric graphs printed on it. "The weather report, sir." The ensign explained.

"Right." Admiral West nodded as he took the sheet of paper from the ensign, who briefly glanced out at the storm clouds as a few white flashes went off.

"Dismissed, Ensign." Admiral West replied and Ensign replied and returned with understanding his superior's order, wasting no time with his salute and walking away quickly to attend to other matters. Admiral West turned back towards the darkening sky and let an expression of pure concern filter onto his face, he studied the charts and glanced up again. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. He'd happened to have seen those exact same signs once when he had been briefly stationed in America, but it couldn't be possible that such readings could occur in the British Isles, at least not of this magnitude...and the sheet of paper was having none of it, it predicted clear skies.

"Hurricane...I'm sure of it..." He muttered darkly to himself, "But there's no damn mention of a bloody hurricane..." He turned and began to walk briskly toward a metal staircase which would eventually take him to the Northumberland's Bridge. As Admiral West continued to climb, he barely noticed that the dark waters surrounding the ship were beginning to heave and toss, as if they were being stoked up by the odd storm that was approaching the British Mainland. He had to radio in this weather anomaly, if for nothing else to alert the RNLI and the Coastguard that there was a storm coming, and it looked like it was going to be an incredibly bad one...

* * *

**Location: Moot of the Painted Sands, Nevada, Near Las Vegas. Time: 3: 00 AM GMT 8:00 PM PDT **

* * *

"I don't approve of this, Your Majesty..." the giant man wearing nothing but a loincloth snarled. "This mangy stray and this hippie desecrating the presence of..."

"Then it is to their good than I am in charge here, and not you, Winters." the muscular man sitting by the fire cut him off, dismissing him with a gesture. "You may be a descendant of the esteemed Vashnivski family, but **I** am the King here..." He didn't look "kingly" to one's first impression, wearing a beaten duster, but there was a regallness to his gaze that could not be denied.

"I thank you, Your Majesty..." one of the newcomers, a woman in her forties wearing a simple shirt and pants, bowed.

"Hey, Kingy..." the man with her, a few years older, wearing a muscle shirt and green pants with a yellow check pattern, said brightly, waving at him.

"You will hold your tongue in the presence of King Albrecht, Mutt, or..."

"Hey, the name is Arsene Lupin IV. My friends call me Barney, you may call me Mister Lupin Sir..."

The giant in the loincloth growled. Barney growled back at him.

"Ragabash through and through..." Albrecht shook his head, not without amusement. His face hardened. "We've all felt it-Gaia is in terror. And Rainpuddle tells me you are the ones who know why..."

A young girl, with long silver hair, wearing a simple tunic, nodded beside him.

Winters growled again. "And all of this on the word of a girl barely out of cub hood..."

"The Geomancer herself attests to Rainpuddle's gifts. Her word is good enough for me, Lord Winters." Albrecht glowered. His patience with Winters was wearing thin. "Speak, Irene, Child of Gaia..."

"Twenty-one years ago, allies of ours defeated the Wyrm-spirit called The Shapeless Destructor." Irene told him. "And what we, and our allies, and the will workers of Hermes, have seen, leads us to believe that it is about to rise again. Should this happen..."

Rainpuddle finished Irene's comment. "The Apocalypse."

* * *

**Location: Unknown, Time: Unknown **

* * *

Ray looked out into the blackness of the barren landscape, and at the unfamiliar night sky. There wasn't a single constellation he could recognize, cementing his fear that he and Winston were indeed on an alien world. The blood red moon, which did nothing to light the gloom of the seemingly perpetual night, loomed menacingly over their heads. He had never seen a "sun" rise, nor set. The passage of time was obscured, and his digital watch only read "3:00 am;" as for the date, he had no clue. He turned again to Winston and prodded their campfire. Neither of them had spoken over the last hour.

"Man, I'm hungry..." Winston muttered, breaking the hour long silence.

"You're telling me," Ray sighed, "who knows HOW long it's been since we've eaten?"

The two men were silent once more for what seemed like an eternity. Ray's thoughts wandered back to New York, after their climactic battle with the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. He thought of the rest of the Ghostbusters. Most of all, he thought of his son, who would undoubtedly be sick with worry.

"I'm sure they'll all be alright," Winston spoke up, as if reading Ray's mind, "and I'm sure they're looking for a way to get us home."

Ray only nodded and prodded the fire gently. The flames provided the only light to see by in the forsaken world that from their short exploration had proved to be a barren wasteland, marked sparsely by the remains of dead vegetation. Despite its size the crimson lunar body offered no illumination to the surrounding landscape whatsoever. This world didn't look evil, it felt evil. The malignant aura cast by the planet seemed to feed upon their good spirits. They felt alone.

"Yeah," Ray sighed, "They're looking for us."

_**Ray...**_

Ray looked up; Did someone just call his name?

_**Winston...**_

Ray looked over at Winston, who was also looking around emphatically for an unseen speaker. He turned to Ray.

"Yo, man, are you doin' that?" Winston asked. Ray only shook his head. Both men were on their feet in a flash, hastily donning their Proton Packs. They looked out into the darkness, waiting for their eyes to adjust, straining too see beyond the light of the campfire. Ray could hear his own heartbeat over the high-pitched whine of the cyclotrons on their backs. Something was out there, but what?

_**Ray...**_

"Show yourself! Come out!" Ray shouted into the darkness.

A figure lumbered into view. It was a dark figure wearing what looked like a cloak as black as the night he stepped from, and his wide-brimmed hat obscured his face from view. He leaned heavily on a large staff, and held out his hand threateningly at Ray and Winston.

_**"Ghostbusters...**_" it rasped."_**Yes...Ghostbusters...what are you doing in a place like this, little lost Ghostbusters? It seems that you have lost your way."**_

"One of Gozer's minions," Winston shouted, "Blast it!"

Ray needed no further convincing, and both men let loose with a proton stream that streaked toward the stranger. The proton streams arced _away_ from the stranger as he waved his hand at them, as if pushing them aside. The stranger then pointed his finger at Ray's neutrona wand, and Ray shouted in pain as he dropped it; it had suddenly grown white-hot, and painful to hold. The stranger's hand then pointed at Winston, and his Proton Pack shut down. Winston tried to restart it immediately, but the ignition refused to fire.

Both men looked up, ready to do battle with their attacker with their own hands, only to find that they couldn't move. The stranger in black then removed his hat and stepped into the light of the campfire...

"VINCENT!" Winston shouted.

Vincent flashed a broad smile, and both Ray and Winston's apparent paralysis seemed to melt away. All three men embraced in a friendly hug before both Ray and Winston bombarded Vincent with questions.

"Are you stuck here, too, Vincent?" Ray asked.

"No, and it is a very long story of which I will tell you while we walk," he said, looking around the campfire before urging them to follow him, "things are very bad right now, and we must leave this place immediately, post haste."

Ray and Winston wasted no time in picking up what few belongings they had lying on the ground. Vincent held out his hand, with his palm upturned.

"_**Magum Tadeam!"**_

A blue flame roared to life in Vincent's hand, chasing away much of the darkness that surrounded their campsite. An eerie fog appeared on the ground along with the illuminating flame.

"Wow. Fantastic!" Ray said excitedly, "what spell is that, Vincent?"

"It's called _'The Wizard's Torch,"_ Vincent explained as he once again donned his hat, "It has many uses. It is a source of light, and it reveals "hidden things."

"What hidden stuff?" Winston asked as the men began walking.

"See the fog on the ground?" Vincent asked, "that's unmanifested ectoplasm. This place is FULL of it. I'm not sure where it's coming from, but I do know that we don't want to be here. The reason you couldn't see it before is because it's naturally invisible."

"Where are we going?" Winston asked, as the campfire was now out of sight.

"Oh, yes..." Vincent chuckled, "I almost forgot; It's story time!"

"Well," he began, "I suppose I'd better start from the beginning."

"We knew that Vinz Clortho and Zuul may attempt to bring back Gozer."

"Man, I know you didn't come out here to tell us_ that_..." Winston rolled his eyes.

"I know...but let me collect my thoughts. One of the last passages we found in the Book of Gozer read that, _'The sleeping god's heart still beats within its chambers; It awaits its servant's call.'_ This, we hope, means that Gozer itself has some sort of 'heart."

"That'd make sense." Ray nodded. "We suspected all along Gozer's 'heart'-or, at the very least, his heart in the metaphysical sense-went somewhere else when we defeated him back in 1983. When we cleaned up what was left of its body, we stuffed it in our Containment Unit, where it coagulated and reformed the Marshmallow Man. The PKE Gozer left inside the marshmallow when it was banished eventually formed its own intelligence…a very basic intelligence, but one nonetheless. In a way, it's almost like Slimer. The new Stay-Puft was like a child….he was kind of a nice guy."

"That was the whole reason they let him out." Winston added. "They want Gozer's body back. If only we'd been able to stop them..."

Vincent looked up in horror. "This all happened after I left-the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man was freed?"

"Yeah...lady calling herself the Herald of the Destructor opened the ECU." Ray answered glumly. "She used some kind of psychic mind probe to get into my head to get the access codes-it was like being French kissed by a Terror Dog."

"_Peering into the mortal mind,_" Vincent interrupted, "a vile spell in the hands of evil."

"We threw everything we could at Stay Puft" Ray continued, "all of us guys at the Firehouse, Gabe and your group, even Bo's motley band. But we weren't enough-they opened a portal at Ground Zero and sucked the two of us and Stay-Puft right in."

"Lovely," Vincent grumbled. "In the Chronicles, Gozer had attempted to invade Earth before. It was at Stonehenge that Gozer was banished to its own realm by the wizard Merlin. We've established that we need some sort of 'foil' to Gozer, and I've concluded that Merlin's staff be used as that 'catalyst.' I have since sailed to Avalon in whereabouts unknown to search for it."

Vincent indicated the staff he was carrying. "As you can see, I have succeeded, but my acquisition of it wasn't without its...setbacks. I was waylaid by an old acquaintance of yours..."

* * *

**Hours Ago...**

* * *

"Thank you for leading me here, Dr. Belmont," said an oily voice from the shadows of the trees, "When I have the staff of the great Merlin, you can do nothing to stop the summoning of Gozer!"

Out from the trees, stepped a pale and gangly man. His thin features were almost skeletal, with his skin being stretched over his face like old leather. His oily black hair was slicked back, and his hair was pulled into a ponytail. His black smoking jacket and vest were adorned with a number of talismans, and an all too familiar pin; a pin with the symbol of the Order of Hermes. His face twisted into an evil cheshire grin as he stared at Vincent with his blood red eyes.

Vincent shook his head in disbelief. "You..." he whispered.

"I am touched, Belmont." the man chuckled. "I would've thought I was too insignificant for the scion of a great legacy like yours to recognize..."

Vincent sneered. "Don't short-change yourself, blackguard. 'Nathaniel Blaque of Tytalus' is one of the most despicable wizards since Vigo Deutchendorf...your exploits run the gamut of Code violations from the unauthorized sale of magical items, to the highest crimes of diabolism. You're a Barrabi and a traitor! You have no right to still wear that symbol!"

Both men stood silent for only a moment.

"Yes, Blaque," Vincent scoffed, "I have a good memory for complete assholes."

* * *

"Nathaniel Blaque?" Ray broke in. "You can't be serious..."

"We ran into that slimeball fifteen years ago..." Winston added, voice trailing off. Nobody here needed to hear any more.

* * *

"Barrabi and a traitor?" Blaque laughed. "A strange comment coming from the one who was caught red handed with Renon the Hell-huckster at the Green Dragon."

"A transaction made with _legal _currency…don't even begin to compare me to you." Vincent seethed through clenched teeth. "You led a cult dedicated to a dark god for over a decade...you had one of you minions impregnated and give birth to a daemonseed-and then killed her and the rest when it suited your purpose. You made a soul pact with Astorath, and you paid for it with the most _illegal_ of currencies: immortal souls."

Blaque's evil, cheshire leer only increased. "And who's word do the Quaesitors have that I was ever involved with such a thing? The daemonseed's? A bunch of mad Etherites? _Yours_? Your biggest concern was _acne_ when that...allegedly occurred."

Blaque laughed heartily. "And you are also tainted by your association with Egon Spengler, the most notorious Etherite of them all. Believe it or not, Sodalis, there is a growing number of the Order who find opposing the Ghostbusters an act of heroism..."

"And allowing a dark god to destroy the world-that's heroism as well?"

"The Order will prevail, you know that…" Blaque sneered, "_If _Gozer is summoned...well, it is quite fortunate that someone loyal to the Order-me-will have the Staff of Merlin." Blaque replied. "Stand down, Belmont of House Bonisagus. I was told to take you alive, if possible...but if forced, I _am_ authorized to kill you..."

Vincent drew his wand. "Why is it that whenever I have something important to do, I get waylaid by jackassery?"

Blaque reached into his coat, producing a sleek black wand of his own.

* * *

"A wand?" Winston asked. "I don't remember that from the last time we met the guy..."

Vincent shook his head. "All Hermetic wizards carry a wand...their Sigil. It's used in a few rituals; in voting at Tribunal; and in Certamen, the formalized Wizard Duel. Blaque claimed he was being sanctioned by the Order, so he followed the ritual...to a degree. He started before I declared that I was ready."

* * *

_**"Abiego!"**_ Blaque howled, violently swinging his wand at Vincent as if he were swatting a fly. Vincent was knocked off his feet as his body sailed through the air stopping only when his flailing form hit a large oak tree.

"_**Herbam obstringo!" **_Vincent shouted at Blaque, twirling the wand in a looping fashion. From underneath Blaque, grass and tree roots took on a life of their own, first snaring his feet, and then beginning to wrap around his legs, constricting him like a giant python, squeezing the life out of him.

Blaque's expression turned to one of shock, as he tried desperately to struggle free, only making the tree roots squeeze tighter. He began to sweat as he concentrated on the tree roots, unable to move his arms. He felt the roots squeeze tighter still, and found himself unable to breathe.

"De…Def…" Blaque tried to speak, struggling against the encompassing vegetation, now creeping over his head.

"_**Defloresco!"**_ Blaque gasped. A crackling black energy enveloped the roots, withering them into sickly black strands. The roots fell off of him, and he shook off the remaining plants as if he were covered in dust. Blaque seethed with rage.

"Is _THAT_ the extent of your powers, Belmont?"

He raised his wand high in the air, spitting his spell through clenched teeth. _**"Ignis!"**_ he spat, as the tip of his wand exploded into an inferno of flames. **"**_**Deflagro!"**_ he shouted as pointed the flaming wand at Vincent. The blazing hellfire leapt from the tip of the wand at Vincent, sailing through the air, taking on the form of a fiery snake. He reflexively shielded his face with his arms as the sizzling serpent coiled around him, setting his entire body ablaze.

Blaque watched on eagerly, grinning triumphantly. His grin faded when he hear Vincent's voice within the conflagration. Out of the blaze, Vincent's hand appeared, clutching his wand, which was sheathed in a dull blue glow.

"_**Glacio!"**_ Vincent hissed, as a shower of freezing wind and ice erupted from the tip. Blaque was frozen where stood, as a solid statue of ice and snow. The flames that enveloped Vincent began to die, revealing him to be completely unharmed. The last flicker of flame disappeared, as Vincent let out an audible strained breath. He looked on as a single drop of sweat rolled down his face.

The statue of Blaque erupted in a shower of ice shards, and Blaqued stumbled to the ground. His body was soaked from head to toe. He lifted his head up to look at Vincent. His face twisted with fury as a few strands of his oily black hair fell into his face.

He struggled to regain his footing, and again pointed his wand at Vincent. Vincent followed suit. The two wizards stood staring at each other, only hearing the rasping of their own breath.

"You…can't…win…" Blaque wheezed. _**"Tempto animus!"**_

A beam of swirling black energy fired from the tip of Blaque's wand, only to be met by a bright green beam from Vincent's. The two beams roiled and crackled.

"The _Test of Will_, Blaque?" asked Vincent as he drew in a deep breath, "so be it. May the greatest will prevail!"

"I warn you. I was the top in my house at Certamen..." Blaque sneered. "And House Tytalus is the Order's masters of the art..."

"You've been living among Mundanes and the Fallen far too long, Blaque..." Vincent retorted. "You don't have Astorath's power to call out to."

"Oh, I get all the power I need, Belmont...from my hatred. My hatred of the Ghostbusters; From my hatred of that ungrateful brat Shannon Phillips; From my hatred of the idiots in the Order who preach accommodation with technomancers and the madmen currently running our world into the ruin of cold logic; And at this moment, my growing hatred for the traitor helping all of those enemies: YOU!"

Blaque's ebony beam flared. Vincent fought it, but it tore through his defenses, piercing his _Parma Magica_, and filled his body with painful negative energy. Vincent cried out in agony as he felt every nerve in his body burn.

"Surrender, and I will spare your life!" Blaque howled.

"Go to hell!" Vincent shouted back.

_I have to concentrate...he's right...hatred is a powerful focus. I need my focus. I can't think about Gozer or Jeremy or Bestler or any of the rest of it right now. Jill. Think of Jill._

Vincent grimaced, and broke the black energy that surrounded him.

"How dare you!" Blaque shouted.

Vincent's wand roared to life, and pierced through the energy with a lance of emerald energy. The tug of war began anew.

_Jill, my Love...so much that I haven't been able to say...so much I want. Yes. Yes it is time. Let us survive this unholy day, and I swear I shall make it up to you..._

"No! NOOOOO!" Blaque screamed as Vincent's beam slammed through his defenses at last. The green energy surrounded, feeling like acid upon his skin.

_Hatred may be a powerful focus, but love is an even more powerful one._

Blaque snarled, and tamped his wand to the ground, the ritual indicator of submission.

"Help me, or leave, Nathaniel Blaque." Vincent barked. "I will suffer no more idiocy."

"Then I shall leave, Vincent Belmont." Blaque looked up at him, his oily smile already back in place. "But unless you follow me, the Order shall hear of how you attacked their duly deputized agent, and resisted a Hermetic warrant of arrest. Even if you succeed in your mad quest, your loyalties will be questioned more than ever..."

Blaque faded from sight; his maniacal cackle lingering echoing in the still air for many minutes after...

* * *

"Ungh..." Ray shivered. "That asshole always did give me the creeps..."

"After I defeated Blaque, I found the resting place of Merlin. I remember very little of my time within Merlin's Barrow. All I remember was sailing into the mists of an underground lake, and awakening here with the Staff."

The three men stopped at a small gondola sitting on the sands of a black beach. The blood red waters lapped lazily at the shore, bringing with it the icy chill of a sinister sea breeze. Ray looked out at the waters and shuddered. He would be happy to leave this place far behind. He wanted to be with Eric again; He wanted to be with his whole family again.

Winston and Ray pushed the small watercraft out into the foreboding red sea, and hopped in with Vincent.

* * *

**4:00AM GMT **

* * *

Fritz opened a can of Pepsi from the vending machine and sat down in the chair. It was 4:00am, and it had been decided to have a small group find the Quarry and report back, but for now everyone else would try to get some sleep.

Fritz knew sleep was going to be impossible for quite a while. _It is only 8 PM back in LA...maybe I shouldn't be surprised._ He thought of the whole situation at hand. He thought of how Vincent might be doing. He thought of Ray and Winston. He wished they could get contact back with New York. Most of all, he thought of Chelsea.

He adjusted his glasses and looked at his notes by the light of the candle on the table. He took a sip and turned the next page.

_"Fritz..."_

He swore he heard his name being called. He looked up.

"Hello?" he called into the darkness of the room.

No answer. _Oh great...now I'm losing my already-tenuous grip on sanity completely..._

_"Fritz..."_

He looked again. Then at the candle, which flickered.

_"Fritz..."_

The candle flickered, and for a moment, Fritz saw Vincent's face. Fritz blinked in disbelief, and looked around the room.

_"Fritz! It's Vincent! We haven't much time..."_

Fritz looked at the candle with wide eyes. He saw Vincent's face floating above the flame of the candle. Fritz looked at the can of Pepsi, and immediately tossed it aside.

"Fritz?" came a voice from the door. Jeff Nash came into view. "Hey man, are you ever gonna sleep?"

Fritz pointed a finger at the candle beside him, and weakly muttered, "The candle is talking to me..."

"Right, man." Jeff muttered, with a tone of concern, "and it's telling you to go to sleep and make an appointment with Dr. Seward in the morning."

The candle flame flashed blue, making both men jump, and an image formed above the blue flame...it was the miniature form of Vincent Belmont.

_"Do I have your attention?"_ the image of Vincent grumbled.

"Son of a bitch!" Jeff gasped as he quickly stepped up to the table.

_"I don't have time!"_ Vincent shouted, _"Get to Portsmouth immediately! I'm here with Winston and Ray."_

"Are they alright?" asked Fritz almost immediately.

_"Yes,"_ Vincent replied seemingly looking around, _"but they are weak from starvation right now."_

"Well, we..." Fritz began.

"_No time, Fritz," _Vincent interrupted, _"Gozer already stirs."_

"Grife, what the Hell was that all about?" Fritz asked Jeff, still unsure of whether or not he'd actually experienced the last five minutes or if it was just a dream.

"I dunno," Jeff muttered, "but I'm waking Egon and the others..."

* * *

**New York City  
12:15 AM EDT; 4:15 AM GMT **

* * *

_"We're working on it as fast as we can, Mrs. Spengler" _the voice of GBI Director of Ghostbusting Operations Richard Roy came over the phone. _"But the GBI IM programs were still being tested, and when the server went down in the blackout, the whole system was knocked out of whack."_

"I'm about ready to come down there and whack the server myself..." Janine growled in response. "I know it's not your fault, Rich..." she sighed. "I'll check back in a little bit." She hit the button to disconnect the cell line with distinct aggravation.

She was currently in the Arcane Division headquarters, as practically every system at Ghostbusters Central had been knocked out by the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man's emergence a few hours before.

She rubbed her forehead, trying to push aside the worry, the fear, and the exhaustion. _With Egon and Peter in England, and Ray and Winston...not here, I'm the senior GBI member on the scene. I have to keep it together._

In the garage, the survivors of that battle were still assembled. Eduardo Rivera, Kylie Griffin, and Garrett Miller of the Extreme Ghostbusters. Roland lay on a cot, resting from the wound he'd received in Stay-Puft's rampage. The other members of the Arcane Division-Dr. Gabriel Martin and Nate Inugami were accompanied by Nightsquad, Jen Spengler, and Bo Holbrook. Cliff Roswell and Zac Crago, had been ordered by Bo to "procure cheeseburgers."

Bo and Nate were currently guarding the limp form of a young woman dressed in an obnoxious hot pink Ghostbusters uniform. Her name tag read "GLADSTONE." As a recent retrieval from Ghostbusters Central, she'd attacked Janine, apparently possessed, just before the mysterious "Herald of Gozer" had freed Stay-Puft. The last member of the Arcane Division, Dr. Harry Seward, was standing over her.

Seward was a gifted hypnotist, and currently had the intruder quite under. He preferred not to use hypnotism so bluntly; but this was far from an ordinary circumstance.

"What is your name?" He asked.

"Mary Sue Gladstone...Spengler..."

"Spengler?" Jen asked incredulously.

"Eeegon is my husband..."

"Jesus Christ, where do they keep coming from?" Bo muttered.

"Where are you from, Mary Sue?" Harry asked.

"Los Angeles..."

"Well, that explains it," Bo grunted as he chomped down on his cigar.

"Why are you in New York, then?" Harry continued.

"I came to see Egon..."

"Did he invite you?"

"No..."

"Of course not." Janine whispered. "He doesn't even know this little..."

"He would if he knew...but when I tried to become a Ghostbuster that Egon rip-off and that woman in the slutty short skirt stopped me..."

"When was this?"

"Last April...when Peter and those new guys set up in LA..."

Janine had a sudden moment of comprehension. "Waitaminute...Dr. Venkman mentioned that he'd interviewed some obsessive fangirl at the West Coast recruitment drive last year...is this really the same one?"

Mary Sue continued "But I couldn't meet Egon...I got scared...until the nice lady gave me the courage. All I had to do was kill the Bitch..."

"Oh you didn't..." Kylie growled. Harry raised his arm to silence Kylie.

"The 'nice lady'-what did she look like, Mary Sue?" Seward asked.

"She dressed all in black...and had a really soft voice. I remember...some kind of aqua blue light...that's when I had the courage to go find Egon..."

"Why did she help you, Mary Sue?"

"I dunno...maybe she believes in true love..."

"Gross. Isn't he, like, forty years older than she is?" Nate asked, "Little chick's got issues. Can't you, like hypnotize them away?"

"It would be against my principles." Seward answered. "I think the psychosis is too rooted anyway..."

Nate Inugami looked up when he heard a rapping at the front door. "Did someone order pizza?"

Janine went to answer it. "I'll get rid of them-I don't see how this could _possibly_ be more important than what we're working on..."

On the other side of the door was an attractive woman in her early forties, dressed in a dark red jacket over a dark blue dress; a symbol resembling a backwards letter "P" was pinned to her lapel. Her slightly curly dark hair was set off by one coppery patch over her left temple.

They had met thirteen years earlier, during the Zodiac Imperative crisis. Lady Enlightenment was a member of the same Order of Hermes that Vincent belonged to. She was a witch, specifically one of the Quaesitors-the keepers and enforcers of Hermetic law. It was a job that kept her quite busy, and never in New York nearly as often as she liked.

"Liz!" Janine said, a shock that was one part joy and one part fear coloring her voice. "I...um...Ray's..."

Liz gave her a quick hug, and shook her head. "I heard all about it-but we don't have a lot of time to worry about that now. Let's just say I know they're all right, for the moment."

"I'm sorry, I..." Janine started to say.

Liz shook her head. "Are Eric and the other children all right?"

Janine nodded. "They're with Dana and my nephew Victor...you don't know how glad I am that you're here..."

"Unless she's got us a quick way to get to England, I'm not gonna get all excited..." Bo grumbled, puffing on his cigar.

"Who is to say, Mister Holbrook..." Liz replied, smirking enigmatically "That I don't?"

* * *

**Tonnes Quarry  
12:15 AM EDT; 4:15 AM GMT **

* * *

"What a dump..." Joey Williams grumbled. Like Fritz, he was used to LA time, so it wasn't really "the middle of the night" for him.

"It's a quarry, not a resort, Joey..." his teammate, Robert Griffiths, reminded him, rolling his eyes.

"Did they really film that show Fritz watches here?"

"No. That was Wapsley Woods Gravel Pit, I think..."

"I found it!" they heard Ben King Sr's voice call out. They moved as quickly as they could in the dark, with flashlights illuminating the dank, dismal place.

They caught up with Ben and Eric Rose, examining a pedestal adorned with rubble.

"So what makes you think this is it?" Joey asked.

"The design matches the stuff I was sent." Ben answered, shining his light on a distinct piece of the rubble. "And I'd think this would clinch it" The mostly intact, recognizable stone head of the terror dog Zuul lay on the ground.

"Holy shit..." Robert muttered, lighting a cigarette.

"We need to call the Professor and the others." Eric shook his head. "Let them know we've confirmed..."

**"Your destruction, sub-creatures..."**

Joey didn't even get to turn around before he was knocked fifteen feet, crashing into a rock. Jeremy Hicks, his teammate and friend-or, to be more accurate, a supernatural malevolence wearing Jeremy Hicks' body-stood there, eyes glowing like a pair of burning coals in the darkness.

"You defile the Master's temple..." a second voice snarled, Sarah Jones stepping out of the darkness.

_The possession is either complete or close enough to it to start shitting our pants..._Eric thought, pulling out his thrower.

"Conserve your power...we will need it to raise the temple and awaken the Master..." Jeremy...Vinz...suggested.

"I haven't got to play as much as you have, Vinz..." Sarah replied, scattering Robert and Ben with a purple blast of energy. "Though I admit I like this decisiveness. Much better than that last pathetic form of yours..."

"As do I..." Vinz grinned.

"You are NOT doing this, J!" Joey shouted, still a bit unsteady. "You've got to come out of there, Buddy...Vinz can't have completely knocked you out..." Joey opened fire upon him, illuminating the darkness with streams of protons.

"Shows what you know, Williams..." Vinz replied, dodging Joey's proton blasts and running to him with blinding speed. "Your friend put up quite a fight, I admit...but no mere mortal can resist the will of the Keymaster for long..."

He grabbed, Joey's thrower, yanked it from the pack, and smacked him with it hard. The thrower sparked as pieces flew from it. Joey's head rang from the pain as he felt the coppery taste of his own blood on his lips.

"We've got to retreat! The four of us can't do it!" Ben shouted.

Eric hated the thought. Competing impulses dueled in his head. On the one hand, he still had Vincent's admonishment from the day before ringing in his ears: _You're all grown up Ghostbusters, now. You're ALL capable of standing on your own two feet, and making decisions for yourselves! If we all thought to ourselves 'Oh Lord, I couldn't __**possibly**__ be as smart as the great __**Egon Spengler**__,' would ANYTHING get done? No!"_ On the other, they'd just basically taken out one quarter of his on hand team in barely more time than it took to blink.

_Then I'm making the decision for ourselves Vincent_-"Pull out! The others need to know, and we can't tell them if we're all dead!"

Robert grabbed his fallen teammate, and the four of them ran for the waiting ECTO-UK as fast as their tired legs could carry them.

Sarah and Jeremy did not try to stop them. "Let them go, Vinz..." Sarah purred. "They will probably return soon with more, but it will be too late. Nothing is going to stop the Master's return..." She looked at Jeremy, and they began kissing hungrily.

* * *

#360/#36154-32708r/61208r  
**100**


	14. June 8, 2004 Part 2

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

**

* * *

**

Ghostbusters UK Headquarters  
12:30 AM EDT; 4:30 AM GMT

* * *

"Dr. Venkman and Iain are on their way to Portsmouth..." Rosey told them. "I told them you insisted they call you as soon as they have them."

Egon nodded, taking a moment to study the crystal orb on the desk in front of him, the one Vincent had sent from Arcane Alley...as he did, he adjusted a connection on the device sitting in front of him, an unwieldy contraption of cannibalized proton pack parts and other odds and ends. He wished he had Ray or Roland here to help with this, but nobody else available would be able to do what he needed done-he had to finish this himself.

Rosey was about to ask if there was anything she could help with when the bell rang. It was unusual to have visitors this time of night-but when a team had a Graveyard Shift, it was not unknown either. "I thought I put out the sign saying we were temporarily closed due to the crisis..." she grumbled as she headed to the door.

She opened the door to find a man in his early to mid twenties, with a head of wild brown hair and wide blue eyes standing. He was of average, even slightly scrawny build, dressed in a long purple coat, with khaki pants and a floppy blue tie. Pinned to his lapel was an insignia resembling a backwards letter "P".

"I'm sorry, Sir, but didn't you see the sign? We're temporarily closed to new cases due to..."

"The unfolding crisis, yes." the man responded in a calm voice, an accent that sounded much like her own, but with some element...some flavor she couldn't quite identify. "Two of the founding Ghostbusters are here. I'm afraid I don't have time for niceties-I need to speak with them immediately _about_ this crisis."

* * *

"Zandrik Fallagar?" Egon exclaimed, as close to emotional shock as he got, as the newcomer entered the room with Rosey.

"I take it he's on the level, then?" Rosey asked.

"I have no reason yet to believe otherwise." Egon replied. "It's been thirteen years for me, though Ray and Liz..."

"Thirteen years? What was he then, about eight?" Jeff couldn't help but ask.

Egon responded "He's a member of the Order of Hermes, just like Vincent."

Jeff did a double take, comprehension dawning on him. "Oh yeah...Vincent mentioned their longevity potions..."

"I wish I had more time, Doctor, but we must move posthaste." Fallagar broke in. "The Order has been empowered by a Special Tribunal to act on this matter. The Magus Dominus himself will be arriving shortly-and Lady Enlightenment is already in New York, preparing to bring reinforcements from your own organization."

* * *

**Tonnes Quarry  
1:00 AM EDT; 5:00 AM GMT **

* * *

The sky began to roil. The stars began to blot out, darkness even deeper than the night spreading across the sky.

Zuul and Vinz Clortho looked up from where they lay. Their lust was sated.

The ground began to quake. From the Earth, the shape of the ziggurat temple rumbled forth, sheathed in tendrils of purple lightning.

The naked, possessed bodies of Jeremy Hicks and Sarah Jones stood, spread their arms, and called out to their master in it's own horrific tongue.

* * *

**Los Angeles, California  
Just before 10:00 PM PDT; 5:00 AM GMT **

* * *

Andy Harness yawned as he opened the refrigerator door. Kyle Stevens' two cats, Maggie and Mister Whiskers, materialized and started to rub his legs, purring the whole time.

"I woulda thought you'd know by now I'm not gonna feed you." Andy muttered. He poured himself some orange juice and, resolved that he probably wasn't going to get to sleep tonight, headed to the rec area on the other side of the floor.

He realized he wasn't really surprised to see Chelsea Aberdeen, the Ghostbusters West Coast's Client Administrator, curled up and dozing on the couch. She'd barely moved from since the end of her shift at 5PM-not since the news had lit up with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man stomping around New York City.

_Poor girl...this is the first time Fritz's been away very long since they became an Official Item, and it'd probably be driving her nuts even without this End of the World stuff going on..._

The news droned on. The same loop of footage-Stay Puft being shot in the face and falling, the swirling dimensional rip sucking in Ray Stantz and Winston Zeddemore-played over and over as the reporters talked.

_"...No further reports from New York City after the rampage of the famous Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and the possible loss of two of the founding Ghostbusters. In other news, officials still intend to honor the late President Ronald Reagan by..."_

The entire building shook with the boom of a tremendous thunderclap.

Living in California, the entire team was aware of the dangers of the San Andreas Fault. Chelsea awoke with a start. The two cats ran and hid in the utility room. Andy heard the doors to bedrooms opening-and more ominously, some of the building's alarms started to sound.

Peter Kong ran the quickest, reaching the Ecto Containment Unit. _"That isn't where the alarm's coming from...everything's fine..."_

Mike Chad called from the computer room. _"It's the PKE sensor alarm..."_

Andy and Kyle Stevens looked at each other. "How bad is it?' Kyle asked, afraid of the answer.

_"It's almost as bad as April, Dawg...and the level is still climbing."_

Andy, Kyle, and Will Ketcham cast a glance at Leon Hogan. Leon was filling the opening on the team left by that April incident.

Andy stepped forward. "Chelsea, try again to reach New York or London. Hell, call Georgia and see if Ron knows anything. Everyone else-full gear."

Leon had to ask. "This my first official End Of The World crisis?"

Will playfully slapped him on the back. "You get used to it..."

"Wonderful"

* * *

**New York City  
Just before 1:00 AM EDT; 5:00 AM GMT **

* * *

Liz had just about finished drawing an elaborate design on the floor. "Under the circumstance, I can't create a teleportation circle any larger, or capable of more than one transit." she looked at them gravely. "Even this wouldn't be possible if not for Archmage Fallagar and the Magus Dominus creating a sympathetic one in England."

"We understand, Liz." Janine put a hand on her shoulder. She had already restrapped a proton pack on.

"So who's going? We draw straws?" Eduardo asked.

Garrett looked ready to throw something. "I don't know how wheelchair friendly GBUK's place is."

"We need at least a few back here in New York to pull together the other Franchises." Janine shook her head. "And we can't take everybody..."

"Fuck this noise." Bo snarled. "That asshat trashed my car. The Hain Witch didn't get away with that, Gozer ain't either."

With a little more discussion, the line-up gelled. From the original office; Janine, Eduardo, and Kylie. From Arcane Division, Harry, Gabe, and Nate. Filling in the last positions were Bo and Jen of Nightsquad.

Garrett, Roland, Cliff, and Zac would stay behind to try and establish contact with the rest of GBI.

Technically, to be ready if the others fail, but no one really gave the world much of a chance if the group in or soon to be in England couldn't stop the impending doom.

"I'm going too!" a voice broke into the discussion.

They turned to see GBI CFO Louis Tully standing there in full Ghostbusting gear; proton pack, gloves, ear protection, and his own uniform.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me..." Bo snorted.

"Louis..." Janine turned to him as gently as she could manage. "I don't think..."

"No, I don't think any of **you** understand..." he interjected. "None of you were ever possessed by a terror dog. None of you know what it's like to spend years of your life waking up from nightmares about it-nightmares that came back just a few days ago. I know this creep and his minions in a way none of you ever will-and I just can't sit on the sidelines here thousands of miles away when maybe, just maybe, what happened to me can help not only the guys going through it now, but maybe even the whole world!"

The whole room was dumbfounded.

"I have to admit he has a point." Liz finally said. "If there's any mystic resonance from his earlier possession remaining, it might prove useful."

"Mrs. Spengler?" Seward asked. "The final say on this is yours..."

Janine rolled her eyes, feeling, for just a moment, a touch of the real fondness that led to some disastrous decisions in her past. _If Louis had been more like this in the past, maybe he never would have let me screw up his life so bad_... "All right, you're in Louis. But pay attention, and for pity's sake don't get in anybody's way..."

Jen had to smirk despite herself. _Like I thought last year when he cussed out the mayor...I think a little bit of her rubbed off onto him after all..._

It was just about then that Liz staggered, as though she'd been hit in the head by a 2 x 4. Janine moved over to catch her.

A clap of thunder rattled the building.

"But the sky's clear..." Kylie noted.

Loud howling came from outside.

Gabriel was breathing heavily. "I think Gozer just rolled over in his sleep."

"There's been a shift in the quintessence..." Liz said. "Whatever is happening, it has just gotten worse..."

"Then we need to get to England **now**..." Janine stated.

* * *

**England  
1:00 AM EDT; 5:00 AM GMT **

* * *

They all felt it; the Earth shake with fear.

"England doesn't get earthquakes like this!" Rosey shouted.

"This is not an earthquake." Fallagar replied, putting the finishing touches on the transport circle. He had doffed his long coat, and rolled up the long sleeves of his white shirt to draw the mystic design.

"Outside!" Ben Junior ran up.

Practically everyone save Fallagar and Egon ran outside.

The sky swirled with darkness. The moon vanished behind a black cloud swirling into view like a viscous patch of oil spreading over the sky.

"I have a bad feeling about this." Joey said.

"The ritual has started." Vincent Belmont's voice spoke. He was standing there with Venkman, Iain, and the somewhat worse-for-wear looking Ray and Winston. "We don't have much time..."

"Egon's working on the whammy right now." Venkman said. He'd only been able to share a quick hug and a _"Don't scare me like that. It'll give me grey hair"_ with his two companions. They all knew there'd be time for a proper reunion later.

"_Hermes' Portal_ is ready!" Fallagar shouted.

"Will it be affected by everything else going on?" Fritz asked.

"We shall have to hope not." Fallagar replied. "It will activate as soon as both have been energized..." He grabbed his wooden staff, and began to make gestures**. "**_**Hic et illic Intericio duo congredi…**_**" **

* * *

**New York  
1:00 AM EDT; 5:00 AM GMT **

* * *

**"**_**...Nos comporto campus**_**..."** Lady Enlightenment continued the invocation. The ones selected to journey to England were around her.

Garrett was too rapt with attention on the glowing radiant circle to notice the sudden movement beside him...until it was too late...

* * *

_**"...nos amandatio corpum transmeo!"**_

* * *

**England  
1:00 AM EDT; 5:00 AM GMT **

* * *

The conference room of the former sanitarium was flooded with white light, with the barest sprinkling of violet sparks.

Fritz gasped as, where the circle was only a moment before (the markings appeared to have vanished), a collection of individuals both familiar and unfamiliar appeared. Janine Spengler, Louis Tully, Bo Holbrook, Jen Spengler, Eduardo Rivera, Kylie Griffin, Gabriel Martin, Harry Seward, and Nate Inugami he'd met-in some cases fleetingly-the previous autumn. The woman standing in the midst of them, Liz Hawthorne, he didn't recognize.

"EGON!" he heard, and was physically tackled.

"What the fuck?" he heard Bo exclaim.

Fritz blinked twice, then recognition hit him. _I know her! That was the obsessive fangirl that kept bugging Chelsea to get her into contact with the Professor! The fangirl who kicked Jeremy in the face during the recruitment!_

"Careful, Miss..." Robert grabbed her, pulling her off the dazed historian. "He's already got a girlfriend..."

"How the fuck did crazy bitch here?" Bo snarled.

"She jumped into the circle just as it activated..." Liz explained, shaking her head. "It was too late to deactivate..."

"Hey!" Mary Sue cried. "You're not Egon! You're that rip-off from LA who wouldn't let me talk to him!"

Vincent stepped over to the intruder. "We really don't have time to deal with you right now-sit down in the corner, be quiet, and don't touch anything, and I won't have to turn you into an animal more befitting your temperament. In your case, a sow in full rut would probably be appropriate!"

"Daaaaaamn..." Nate cried in amazement, "You're lucky, he turned ME into a newt."

Gabe immediately glared at him. "Do NOT tell us that you got better…" he growled.

Mary Sue looked shell-shocked for a few seconds. Then a weird grin appeared on her face as Robert led her to a chair. "You know...he's pretty cute too for someone who's not Egon..."

"He already has a girlfriend too." Robert rolled his eyes.

"LIZ!" a voice called out.

"RAY?" the woman in red answered. Ray Stantz pushed from behind Venkman and Joey, taking the woman in a strong embrace, leading to the two sharing a very long, heartfelt kiss.

"Um..." Iain said, amongst many in the room not sure what to think of this.

Ray looked around the room, realizing he and Liz were drawing a lot of quizzical looks. A wide grin appeared on his face. "Oh yeah...some of you haven't met Liz yet, have you? Well, it's okay-being married for nine years means we can be kissyface even at the end of the world."

There were several loud guffaws. "So THIS is the mysterious Mrs. Stantz..."

Liz picked a piece of dirt out of Ray's beard. "When I heard you'd been sucked into that rift, I feared the worst...but somehow knew you'd be okay..."

"Eric holding up?" Ray asked.

"I got in a brief call before we left-Dana and Victor are looking after him."

"We gotta have a talk about him when this is over-something happened a few hours ago..."

"What?"

"Not now..." Ray shook his head.

"In case you were wondering, Mrs. Spengler." Adam informed her. "The Professor is down in the lab..."

Janine rolled her eyes, and made a wry, affectionate grin. "Of course..."

Venkman clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Okay, okay, we'll have time to get mushy later-everybody, either get to the garage or get to the front yard. I gather we got more company coming..."

"You aren't kidding, Doctor Venkman!" Ben Junior yelled. "Get to the front yard, quickly!"

* * *

**5:15 AM GMT **

* * *

Having just appeared in the front court of the former Staffordshire asylum, each guided by their own respective seers and oracles, were not one but two groups.

One was comprised of a fair number of men and women in ornate robes, many of them sporting wide-brimmed pointed hats.

The other had a collection of mostly, as an average, much burlier men and women, many of them wearing simple clothes. More interestingly, a few wolves walked among them.

There were members of both parties looking at each other with no small amount of suspicion.

"Lizzy! Ray!" the voice of Barney Lupin called from the burlier group.

"Lady Enlightenment, Follower of Guernicus..." one from the other group called. The robed crowd parted, four men almost as burly as the other group, each wearing a red hat, stepped forward, flanking a man with a long purple robe. On his portly jowelled face hung a long white beard that nearly touched the ground. The hem of his robe, a pure black, glittered, as if you could see the night sky within it. His piercing silver eyes looked upon Liz through a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles.

"Magus Dominus..." she said reverently, dropping to one knee. Vincent did likewise. And even Ray, though not a Hermetic wizard, but in support of his wife, knelt.

"We do not have time to stand on ceremony, Sodalis..." the old man said, waving his hand. "I think we've got other things to worry about than formalities..."

"On that we agree." Albrecht said, stepping forward with Barney, Irene Cortez, and the seer Rainpuddle right beside him. "The Magus Dominus of the Order of Hermes and the King of the Silver Fangs, of the Garou nation, have a common cause this day. We request the audience of one Dr. Egon Spengler."

* * *

**5:30 AM GMT **

* * *

Leon Vega looked on at the colourful throng gathered outside of the building. A hundred new smells both familiar and alien assaulted his heightened senses, some putting him on edge whilst others sang with something inside him. He was suddenly aware of three presences approaching him and he turned his head to face the two strangers who were being led by Iain.

"Leon, I'd like to introduce you to two people Peter thought you should meet."

"Irena Cortez..." She paused as she shook Leon's hand, studying the face of the man before her. After a few moments she finally added. "You're Fianna."

Something probably approximating the closest Leon had come to complete surprise ghosted across his face and vanished just as quickly. "You have been taught well, Ms. Cortez."

" I'm Arsene Lupin IV." Barney greeted, grabbing Leon's hand and shaking it so hard that Iain wondered if he'd pull the man's arm out of its socket. "But everyone calls me 'Barney'." He smiled as he let the introduction sink in. "So, should we sniff each other's butts now?"

* * *

"Cardinal Albert Simon." Vincent said icily.

"Doctor Belmont." Cardinal Albert Simon replied just as icily, tipping his top hat with a slight bow.

There was no love lost between these two. Vincent was certain Cardinal Simon was probably enjoying Vincent's recent problems with the Quaesitors-and that was assuming he wasn't _involved_ in them.

"You did it, didn't you?" Simon asked. "You recovered the Staff of Merlin."

"Yes."

"A little bird also told me that you brokered the instrument of Gozer's destruction with Renon, as well?"

"Yes, if it's any business of yours…"

"Good." Simon replied.

Vincent actually glanced at his old enemy.

"You finally begin to see that there are necessities to preserving life." Simon replied in steady tones. "You realize that it is not the means that justifies the end, but quite the other way around. No matter what ideology you follow, you must do whatever it takes. The Destructor would leave the world in a state that would be to the liking of neither of us."

* * *

[So a Fianna, a Child of Gaia, and a Bone Gnawer walk into a bar...] the smallest of the three wolves in the room-one that more resembled an overlarge German Shepherd than a wolf-remarked, in a feral tongue that only the other two could understand. They had retreated from the main conversation, which Barney had offhandedly noted _"This will be the boring talky shit. We'll catch up when they're done and ready to do something."_

The brown wolf shook her head. [No wonder Peter gets along so well with you...]

[Dr. Belmont mentioned that the founders had worked with Garou before. I know it's a cliché, but it's an honor to meet you, even under this horrible circumstance.] said the third wolf, the large black one with the glowing green eyes.

[I think all of us are a little disconcerted by all of this.] the brown wolf agreed.

[Concerts? I haven't been to a concert since I saw Styx in the Meadowlands in 83-they rocked!] the Shepherd-looking wolf said excitedly

The black wolf shook his head [If you're anything other than a Ragabash, I will be surprised]

[Aw, shoot...I like surprising people, too...]

[How long have you been here, Leon?] Irena asked, rolling her eyes.

[I've been with the Ghostbusters about nine months-I joined last fall]

[I met the originals back in 1989-doesn't seem possible it's been fifteen years...]

[You guys mind if I lick my balls?] Barney asked brightly.

Irena grumbled with exasperation. [I'd rather you didn't...]

[Aw, c'mon, that's the best part of being able to turn into a dog. Back me up on this, Leon...]

[Gaia is terrified] Leon shook his head, the mood too somber to react to Barney's attempts at humor. [She's been screaming since that book reappeared]

[I felt it even back in America] Irena nodded.

[This is everything that the storytellers have feared for ages untold.] Leon nodded gravely. [This is the Apocalypse...]

[Not if we have anything to say about it.] Barney said with uncharacteristic resolve.

* * *

"You're the historian, I understand?" Fritz was shaken from his check of his proton pack by the words of the wizard Fallagar.

Fritz looked at the younger-looking man warily. Truth to tell, the man unnerved the hell out of him. "So some have said..."

The wizard gave him an enigmatic smirk. "Then you should witness this moment of history..."

Fallagar pointed to the center of the bustling activity.

"This is a meeting of a kind that has not been seen on this world for centuries." Fallagar explained. "To one side, Morgond, the Magus Dominus, the leader of the Order of Hermes. To the other side, Albrecht, King of the Silver Fangs and thus, nominally the entire Garou nation. And with them..."

Egon Spengler stood in the middle of them, in full uniform. Fritz was amazed by one simple fact: there was no intimidation in Spengler's eyes. He was standing between two of the most powerful beings on the planet...two men who could destroy his mortal body fairly easily. Egon remained with steeled resolve.

"With them, the greatest Etheric mind since Aretus and Bacon." Fallagar continued. "This day, three factions of the mystic world stand united..."

The impact of Fallagar's words started to wash over him. As a historian, he often wondered what it was like to witness the great moments of history first hand...to have been there when Rome was founded. When Copernicus and Newton reshaped humanity's view of the universe. When the Shot Heard Round the World was fired at Lexington.

He was even too young to have remembered the day an assassin changed American history at Daley Plaza...he was but a schoolboy when seven brave astronauts perished in the Florida skies. He well remembered the horrible Tuesday morning less than three years before...but had been separated from it by a continent.

Today, he was **there**.

"Mark it well." Fallagar told him. "For one day...should we survive...someone will have made sure that it is remembered..."

Iain Bennett ran up to Fritz and Fallagar. "I think the Professor should take this call." he said, holding up a cell phone. "It's from the Prime Minister."

* * *

Two years before, the four founders of GBI had journeyed to London when Prime Minister Tony Blair was in, as they might say, a "spot of trouble". It was when Ray, Egon, Winston, and Venkman were aided by a paranormal investigation team called S.P.R.I.G. that the United Kingdom got it's own GBI franchise.

What that basically meant was that Blair knew firsthand anything the Ghostbusters told him was **not **automatically impossible.

"We've already identified the source of the event-Tonnes Quarry, South of London. We will be on our way to the location momentarily." He paused as Blair said something. "Understood, but tell them to not get in our way when we get there. We will handle this." He cut off the line.

"He is the only one who _could_ do that..." Fallagar told Fritz. "Sometimes, there is an advantage to not living in the shadows..."

"The RAF and the Army are moving to secure the area." Egon told everyone else. "We need to get moving.

"Road trip!" Venkman and Joey said in unison.

Fallagar watched for a moment, not moving, as the Ghostbusters, wizards, and werewolves moved to leave.

"[I thought this was against your code, Archmage...]" the Magus Dominus's voice spoke to Fallagar alone, in perfect late Twelfth Century German. There would be no one else present fluent enough to follow the conversation. "[You have forsworn active involvement in affairs not pertaining to your own order...]"

"[You know very well why, Morgond.]" Fallagar replied. "[One of the Children _is _involved...the Lady of the Steady Waters is a servitor of the Destructor. She threatens her own destiny, ours, and the entire world's...]"

"[You and your Ascension...]" the Magus Dominus shook his head "[If I wasn't so curious myself as to what it would bring...]"

"[We'll just have to make sure we both get a chance to find out...]"

* * *

**5:45 AM GMT **

* * *

The assembling array of military vehicles parted. An awesome array of forces moved into the scene.

The ECTO-UK was in the lead, lights flashing. Another, similar vehicle save for it's black color; the ECTO-GS; Ben King's Mini Cooper; Tommy Simpson's motorcycle; and a couple more vehicles Venkman had hastily rented were all close behind.

One of the assembled military officers grumbled. "I can't believe we're staking our bloody existence on this bunch of charlatans..."

His superior glared at him. "The orders came from the Prime Minister himself, Chaplain. They will be obeyed."

The gaping maw stood before them, filling the skies above Tonnes Quarry.

"I got a real bad feeling of Déjà Vu here..." Winston noted.

"Despite what some might say, you see one end of the world you _haven't_ seen them all." Venkman agreed. "But this one does seem uncomfortably familiar..." He unconsciously stroked the wedding band underneath his black work glove. _Dana, Jess, Oscar...If I don't make it back from today..._

"We only got here in fifteen minutes?" Fritz asked, looking at his watch incredulously.

"A mystic trick." Liz answered. "Not quite as difficult as teleporting everyone, and doesn't require the energy and material expenditure."

"Gaia is with us." Rainpuddle added. "She made sure we'd be there."

Some of the burlier GBI members-Robert, Eric, Winston, and Bo-removed and gingerly carried from the ECTO-UK a strange device, composed out of cannibalized proton pack parts, other miscellaneous electronic gear, and a glimmering orb. The same glimmering orb Vincent had purchased from the demon Renon.

"This is the key to our strategy." Egon had told them all. "It's comprised of two parts: an anti-matter bomb, and the globe of elements. The explosion of the bomb will shatter the globe containing all five Hermetic elements. Both the pure interaction of matter and anti-matter, and the disharmony of magic and science, will create an explosion larger than..." It unnerved them that even Egon couldn't come up with an adequate description. "An explosion hopefully large enough to suit our purposes."

No one even wanted to ask what would happen if it didn't work.

As the various GBI members bustled into their equipment, the four original Ghostbusters found themselves alone for a moment.

Ray shook his head, and lit a cigarette. "How in the hell did we beat Gozer all by ourselves last time?"

Venkman chuckled. "We were twenty one years younger. And had a lot of dumb luck." He grabbed Ray's cigarette and took a drag off of it.

Winston took the cigarette next. "We've got a lot more on our side going into this one. We just gotta hope it's enough."

Egon took off his glasses. "This is exactly why we created this company. Why we expanded it-so we wouldn't have to do it by ourselves anymore. It will be enough-it has to be."

"Everybody's waiting for you old men..." a very familiar voice broke in, that of the only other one who'd been there since the beginning.

"But Janine..." Venkman countered. "We were just writing our speech about how in our day we had to go through ten miles of snow uphill both ways to fight Gozer."

That brought a round of laughter from all five of them, even Egon.

Venkman smirked. "I'll see you on the Other Side, Ray."

"Been nice working with you guys." Ray countered. "Even you, Peter."

"Okay, okay..." Winston chided, as he led Ray and Venkman off. "I think we better give these two just a minute."

Egon and Janine looked at each other. Egon pulled out the familiar shape of the "lucky coin" he was given before that earlier battle. "I think I'm ready."

"I thought you didn't believe in luck." she teased.

With that, the two Spenglers embraced for a long kiss they hoped wouldn't be their last.

* * *

"Not everyone's going into the portal." Egon announced. "A team of GBI agents and Hermetic wizards will remain behind."

"Why?" Eduardo asked. "You'd think we'd want everyone where they might be needed."

"There are four main scenarios. The first is that none of this matters. Gozer wins. The Earth is destroyed or rendered unlivable-in which case, it won't matter where anyone is. The second scenario is total victory. Everything works as intended. We beat Gozer. Candy and teddy bears rain from the sky. Everyone goes home and dies of old age."

There were a few uncomfortable chuckles.

"But we have to be ready for two other possibilities: if our scheme with the anti-matter bomb fails, a team must remain behind for a last-ditch sanction. If Gozer starts crawling through that portal, all bets are off-you're authorized to cross the streams, to use the overload-any means necessary."

"We're already passing around the keys to the proton pack overload safeties." Ray added.

"The last one...is that we succeed." Egon's voice caught slightly. "But we don't make it back."

"Somebody has to still be here to carry on after we're gone." Winston added gravely.

"The wonderful guys of the RAF have given us a sturdy, fast vehicle with atrocious gas mileage to carry about the actual bomb in." Venkman said. "We wish to extend a personal thanks to GBI's good friend Chaplain for making this possible."

Iain Bennett rolled his eyes. _It means more hell to pay, but it's worth it. _

Vincent Belmont, Ray Stantz, and Winston Zeddemore had already visited the realm once-they would be going. Louis Tully's prior connection to the enemy was ruled potentially useful. Egon Spengler knew the most about the weapon-he was going. Peter Venkman was thus included by fiat. Chance determined the rest:

Chosen to enter the portal, and the dark realm: Fritz Baugh, Iain Bennett, Jeff Nash, Bo Holbrook, Nate Inugumi, Ben King, Sr., Gabriel Martin , Harry Seward, and Jen Spengler.

The last ditch defense/survivor team: Janine Melnitz Spengler, Adam Bestler, Kylie Griffin, Robert Griffiths, Eduardo Rivera, Eric Rose, Tommy Simpson, Rogers Kennedy and Johnson, Jill Valentine, Joey Williams.

The entirety of the werewolves present, including Leon Vega, Barney Lupin, and Irena Cortez, were going. "As Gaia's warriors, there would be no finer death that in preventing the Apocalypse!" as Albrecht stated it.

Many, but not all of the wizards were going. Lady Enlightenment-Liz Hawthorne Stantz-would be making the journey. Morgond, the Magus Dominus, on the other hand, would remain behind. "I have the utmost faith in all of you." he told them. "Especially as the Archmage of Winds will be making this journey with you..." A revelation that shocked even Liz.

* * *

**6:00 AM GMT  
11:00PM PDT  
Los Angeles **

* * *

"Guys!" Chelsea shouted. At this point, like the others, she was wearing her flight suit-it made her feel, somehow, more at ease. Like she was closer to Fritz and the others.

Will and Chad ran into the room. The TV finally had something different from the Stay Puft footage that had been running over and over again.

_"...That's right, Vernon, Sky News confirmed that there was a massive mobilization of the Royal Air Force and the UK's army centered on a quarry south of London. Their reporters say that members of Ghostbusters International are also on the scene; one unconfirmed report says that founding members Ray Stantz and Winston Zeddemore, who disappeared in New York only hours ago, were sighted with the group."_

_"If true, that would be a relief." _New York anchorman Vernon Fenwick commented. _"We may make it through this yet."_

"I've got Rich Roy on the phone!" Andy shouted. "He says he's trying to get a line open to London now!"

"Tell him we've heard from Ron, ECTO Canada, and that guy Peterson in North Carolina." Will shouted back. "And every one of is ready to mobilize if we need to."

* * *

**6:00 AM GMT  
11:00PM PDT **

* * *

Janine Melnitz Spengler had never been what one would call a reverent soul. She felt early on in life that if there was any higher force in the universe, it either didn't care or had it in for her. It had been why she'd made some dreadful mistakes involving some more accessible, more "real" presences-and it had nearly cost her soul in the process

But now, as the man she loved more than life itself, and the three men who'd become her brothers in every real sense of the word, vanished into an unknown destiny, she found herself praying in a way she hadn't since she was barely much older than her children.

_Adonai...keep them all safe..._

* * *

**6:00 AM GMT  
2:00 AM EDT  
New York **

* * *

"Did you hear what he said?" Eric Stantz cried. "He said they saw Dad and Uncle Winston! They're all right!"

Dana bit her lip, noticing that the reporter called the report "unconfirmed"

_Just be careful, Peter, you jackass... _she said to herself. _All of you be careful..._

* * *

**Location: On The Other Side  
Time: Unknown **

* * *

They didn't even realize they'd crossed over for a moment. One moment, the swirling portal filled their vision...the next, they were in a dark, alien land. No zap, not even the "Riding the Tilt-A-Whirl until you want to puke" feeling.

"Priority one: set up the access point!" Egon barked.

A line trailed from behind the transport jeep. With the unreliability of radio signals in PKE saturated environments, combined with the dimensional transit, a physical transceiver cable was set up to (with hope) carry the signals back to Earth.

The werewolves formed a perimeter as Ray and Jen removed the radio station and set it up.

"Ever been to another dimension before, Fritzy?" Bo asked, lighting a stogie.

Fritz shook his head. "First time."

"Dimension virgin, huh? Too bad-Gozer plays it pretty rough..." Bo chuckled. "My first time was the Blair Witch, who looks like a Catholic schoolgirl in comparison..."

It was a death quiet. It was a calm before the coming storm. Vincent stared at the moon. His gaze pierced the red veil, staring into the black abyss beyond, where the coming void awaited.

Vincent fished out a locked from around his neck. He opened it up, and gazed longingly at two pictures. On the left, was Jill Valentine, smiling up at him with her clear blue eyes; a cascade of brown hair swept gracefully around her shoulders. The picture on the left was one of a young girl, in her very early teens. She had short, pretty black hair, and beautiful brown eyes. She had a smile that showed a hint of insecurity. Resting between the pictures, was a 24-carat diamond ring. Vincent sighed deep. He had the courage to meet certain death, but not the courage to ask a simple question.

"Priority two: We need to find Gozer itself." Vincent said. "By placing the bomb at it's heart, we can end this. Once and for all." Vincent paused.

"I'm getting a signal!" Jen reported.

"Let me." Vincent said. He knew it would have been better earlier...anytime earlier..."Earth, do you read?" But there might not be a later.

_"We're here, Doctor Belmont."_ Eduardo's voice answered. _"The reception is crap, but we hear you."_

"Put Jill on for a moment."

There were some looks between the various Ghostbusters-particularly the ones who remember Jill's meltdown the night before.

_"I'm here, Vincent."_ Jill's voice answered.

Vincent inhaled. "This isn't the way anyone ever imagines this happening, but impending destruction does have a way of focusing one's priorities. Jill...my Love...if we survive this day..." he reached into his pocket, feeling the heft of the ring box. "Marry me."

There was a stunned silence. _"I...you're right, this isn't exactly the typical fantasy proposal that I…" _

The connection was swamped by static.

"Jill? Jill!" Vincent shouted.

But if Jill Valentine said anything else, it was lost to the ether.

_It figures..._ Vincent shook his head ruefully. Gabe moved closer to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder...

What seemed to be hours went by. The main camp had been set up, and final preparations were being made. The bleak and dismal world was filled with an unnerving quiet.

_"Sub Creatures!"_ an angry telepathic voice shouted. _"You dare despoil the Shapeless One's realm with your filth?"_

Nearby, the two familiar Terror Dogs, Zuul the Gatekeeper and Vinz Clortho the Keymaster, were eyeing them. _It only makes sense..._Venkman realized. _This is the Gate, they're Keeping it..._

"J..." Jeff growled, pulling out his neutrona saber.

"We can't kill them..." Fritz said. "Jeremy's one of us..."

"If it's a choice between him and everyone on Earth..." Gabe snarled in reply. "There's no real choice..."

"Keep them from the equipment!" Ray shouted.

Louis, standing near the Jeep, gulped hard as Vinz moved in his direction.

Zuul jumped for the transceiver. Ray shot at her. She dodged the shot, and body-checked him, ramming him into the device.

Vincent reached into his coat. "There are always alternatives." He couldn't think of the rest of it now...he had done the hard part. The easy part would be defeating a primal god to insure he got to hear the answer...in person.

He threw the small red bottle of Aglophitis, which exploded into a cloud of crimson smoke when it hit Zuul.

_"Zuul!" _Vinz growled, turning his attention from the Jeep.

The cloud dissipated, and a nude human body-young, female, red-haired-fell out of it. Her body began to convulse, and she reared back on her knees, and retched upon the ground, spewing a viscous glowing red liquid. The liquid quickly evaporated into a cloud vaguely shaped like the terror dog form of Zuul.

Vincent stared down Vinz. "A spiritual purgative, Keymaster. Brewed from the Aglophitis I procured not long ago. The Gatekeeper's unwelcome domination of Sarah Jones' body is at an end." He pulled out another bundle. "And I just happen to have a second dose for use with Mister Hicks."

Vinz growled angrily-and turned tail and ran.

"We gotta go after him!" Jeff shouted.

"Nash, Bennett-with me!" Vincent shouted.

"Vincent!" Ray exclaimed.

"Let him go." Egon shook his head. "We need to establish contact with Earth-if we still can."

* * *

"Stay Puft not like this place..." the giant, marshmallowy behemoth noted, a tinge of sadness in his voice. His face had regenerated from the dual rail gun hit it had taken the day before, but his smile had not returned-it was as close to a frown as the configuration of his face allowed.

He tried to remember how he got to this place. It was certainly emptier than the one he remembered best, the one with all the mean ghosts who ran away and shouted curses whenever he tried to play with them. Or the city he remembered being in briefly...it was fun taking walkies, but all of those little, shouting people with their fragile metal chariots were kind of annoying.

"Slimer?" he looked around. He remembered Slimer. Slimer was his friend. he'd even come to visit him in the place with the mean ghosts...but he couldn't see Slimer, and that made him sad.

There was something else in the sky, though. Stay Puft looked at it, and realized it wasn't quite a bird...it was bigger, and uglier. And it scared him.

* * *

**GBUK Headquarters  
6:30 AM GMT **

* * *

The basement of GBUK HQ was flooded in red light as Ben Jr and Rosey flew across control consoles and computer screens doing their best to prevent a Containment breach. Even though the Ghostbusters had done their best to patch the machine up after Jeremy's attack the wounds were still raw and the machine was incredibly sensitive to the waves of Psychokinetic Energy that were surging up from the southern counties.

Rosey flinched as a panel belched sparks, one of her hands swatted at the small flecks of light to stop them setting her hair alight as her free hand punched in a series of hastily written command codes.

"If we can't do anything to stop this thing from blowing-" A loud bang erupted from the unit that allowed them to observe the unit's contents via camera. -"would we even have enough time to evacuate?"

"Probably not." Ben remarked forlornly as he balanced a service manual in his lap as he twisted several dials. "We'd probably be flash fried before we got out of the basement."

"Then I'll never get to kiss Egon!" Squealed Mary Sue who just stood there looking useless.

"Then again... maybe it wouldn't be so bad." Rosey rolled her eyes.

"I just wish you and Dad had been nicer to each other these last few years." He smiled sadly as they exchanged a look before returning to their task.

* * *

_Gozer the Gozarian...Gozer the Destructor...Vulguus Zildrohar...the Traveller has returned, at last!_

Stay Puft didn't know what it was. But he knew he had to run!

_You cannot escape me, Traveler... you __**are**__ me! You are the Corpus, the power that was sealed on the other side of the Gate when the Blasphemers destroyed it!_

"Stay Puft not like you!"

_In this world, there is no choice! _

Stay Puft's brobdignagian strides were shattering the landscape. For the first time in his existence, he realized he was rather rotund, and wished it were differently. If he was skinnier, like the little shouting people, he could run faster.

* * *

"You all right?" Bo asked Jen. Jen nodded.

"That earthquake was not natural." Fallagar said simply.

"Wizzo, I don't think _anything_ here is natural..." Barney growled.

Egon's first priority was checking the bomb. "The bomb appears to be all right..." he said aloud, to reassure everyone else.

_C'mon, guys..._ Ray pleaded quietly.

* * *

The skeletal, bird-like creature shrieked it's anticipation.

_At last! After too many years, we will be one, once more! After untold ages of denial, the land of Iaoue's Chosen will be MINE!_

"NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man screamed.

The bird grabbed him with its giant, emaciated wings. Stay Puft tried to get free, but the giant bird creature ignited, burning him badly.

Stay Puft dimly understood his mind starting to fade...to be pulled apart, and subsumed back into the darkness...the darkness, he realized, from which he'd been born in the first place. He didn't want to. He hated this darkness.

But it was too powerful for him.

His last thought was, again, of Slimer.

_I'm sorry, Slimer..._

* * *

The alien world of Gozer's realm assaulted their eyes, ears and nostrils as Jeff, Iain and Vincent chased after The Keymaster. All three had come to know the creatures known as Terror Dogs through the reports and case files from 1983 but for the three Ghostbusters, their combined personal experiences of the beings only amounted to a week in total.

"Vincent, I don't suppose you could do something to stop him, could you?" Jeff asked, deftly drawing the hilt of his proton-saber and igniting it.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" the wizard remarked. "I think _The Earth's Carbuncle_ would give him a nasty shock." He pointed the staff at the terror dog as he ran, shouting, **"**_**Terrestris vomica, displodo!"**_ The ground beneath Vinz Clortho cracked, and a burst of jagged, loose rock exploded from under him mid-stride. It yelped in pain and surprise, misjudged what would've been a dramatic jump from part of a nearby rock face and tumbled to the ground.

"Excellent shot!" Iain enthused. They were suddenly brought to a jarring halt as a hulking werewolf seemed to fly from overhead, landed on the ground with practiced ease and carried it's momentum forward into a pounce onto the prone Terror Dog.

"I don't care how close to death we are, that was really cool." Jeff smirked and the three Ghostbusters resumed their quick approach. The Terror Dog and werewolf shuffled and bounced across the ground as they fought at each other, even though the werewolf was now bleeding from several nasty bites it remained calm resolved in not doing damage to the terror dog. The three Ghostbusters had just caught up with the two warring creatures when Vinz managed to use his hind legs to propel the Lycan off of him and hurtling towards the paranormal investigators. Whilst both Iain and Jeff managed to leap to the side with a swift role, Vincent was taken by surprise as the bulky, furred form of the werewolf collided with his slender frame, toppling him over.

"Get off of me, you miserable rug!" He bellowed as Jeff and Iain took off, quickly approaching Vinz who was now shaking his head and climbing back to his paws.

"Your hindrances are becoming _really_ irritating!" He roared, scraped the ground like an enraged bull and charged. The two Ghostbusters judged the charge and each swept away to the Terror Dog's sides just when it seemed it was going to strike them. As he shot past the two swept back to standing beside each other and within a moment Excalibur was unsheathed.

The Terror Dog and the Ghostbusters began to move in a circle, never taking their eyes off of each other. The terror dog reared back, and roared. From the deafening bellow, a stream of aqua blue ectoplasm issued forth from its maw, knocking Jeff off his feet. Iain swiftly dashed forward, raising Excalibur above his head, preparing to strike Vinz.

"_What happens if I chop off one of his limbs by accident? Will Jeremy lose one of his?"_

Iain hesitated.

In Iain's moment of hesitation, Vinz struck. Sinking his teeth deep into Iain's side, he lifted him up, shaking him from side to side like a rag doll, and tossing him aside. Iain tried to get up, but a firey pain in his side caused him to collapse. He glanced down at his side where Excalibur lay, and saw it laying in a small pool of blood; _his_ blood.

The Terror Dog growled, dug it's feet into the ground and pounced at Jeff. In a blur of fangs and protons, Jeff's proton saber flashed, shedding sparks each time it collided with Vinz's scabberous bulk.

"Duck!" A voice suddenly shouted. Jeff deftly flipped to the side as a third human flew from behind, and in a graceful arc swept the staff of Merlin down onto the Terror Dog's head, landing the head of the shaft between the creature's horns, with a singular cry; _**"MACTO!"**_ There was a blinding flash, and a moment later Vinz hit the ground and spun, foaming at the mouth as Vincent touched down and spun, making the tail of his coat cut dramatically through the air for a short moment.

"For _that_ and what you did to Zuul, I'll eat your intestines!"

"You'd be better off eating the Chinese take out on Desbrosses Street." Vincent smirked and he tamped the staff on the ground and pointed a finger at the prone terror dog. **"**_**Sagittae Magica!"**_ Vincent shouted, unleashing a series of glowing white dart-shaped bolts from his outstretched finger. They arced through the air slamming into Vinz Clortho.

"_**Iaculor!"**_

The white darts continued to sprout from his finger as he guided them in an arc around the Terror Dog, causing the ground to explode around it, upsetting the creature's balance and momentum.

"Son of a _Grath-Neckflick_!" Vinz bellowed. "Fight me like a pitiful man and not some cowardly _Zech-Krieer_!"

"Fine!" The wizard snapped. He raised the staff into the air, and then brought it down into the rock surface of the ground beneath his feet, shattering it with a small explosion of blue light as he staked the staff. He then proceeded to remove his hat and coat and hung them on the it. "Of course! What's one _more _pathetic waste of time?."

"You talk _too_ much."

"I know... Jill says that a lot." The two pounced at each other, the Terror Dog swiping at him with it's sharp claws and Vincent pulling the Belmont family whip from his belt. With a flick of the wrist, Vincent snapped the whip in front of him drawing first blood before he and Vinz collided in the air. Vinz clawed at Vincent's thigh, and both fell to the ground, wincing in pain.

"After I've finished with you, you'd wish you'd been roasted in the depths of the Sloa-" His speech was cut off with a dramatic, and anticlimactic CLANG! Vincent looked up, brushing his damp hair out of his eyes to see that Iain and Jeff had cold-clocked Vinz Clortho with Excalibur and what looked like a broken portion of the receiver Zuul had damaged. Iain cringed as a sharp pain crawled up his side.

"... that's hardly sporting." Vincent protested, disappointed at the turn of the fight.

"Forget bloody sportsmanship, douse him!" Iain growled through the pain, gesturing toward the stunned monster with his sword. Vincent paused for a moment before retrieving a second glass vial from his coat that contained the spiritual purgative.

Vincent pulled the hat from his head, and the scarf from his chin. A faint breeze fluttered the tails of his coat. He dug the heel of the staff in his hands into the ground. He leaned upon the Staff of Merlin, shedding its silent glow, illuminating the dark path about him. He surveyed the long road up to the summit. The barren landscape around him showed no signs of life.

The sky, however, was unusually clear. Each star in the alien sky was significant from the rest. The clearness of the night sky, however, did nothing to ease the stillness...or the loneliness.

Vincent looked back at his two companions. Jeff looked up at him, holding the crumpled form of the young man that was Vinz Clortho, warrior king, Keymaster of Gozer.

Jeremy kept mumbling the same phrase incoherently, as a boy, tossing in his sleep, troubled by the nightmares wrought by the beast that was once within him.

_"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."_

Iain Bennett ambled up beside Jeff, and rested his crippled body against a group of boulders that lined the path to the mountain summit. He clutched his side, nursing a bandaged wound near his hip. He breathed deep, and applied pressure to the wound, which was staining the bandages a deep scarlet.

"You sure you're up to this one, mate?" he wheezed, "Vinz here nearly made me about 3 feet shorter..." He tried to chuckle, but winced at the pain.

Vincent put his hat back on. He looked back up toward the summit, and paid close attention to the mysterious moon that loomed above...deep crimson in color, twice as big as Earth's lunar body.

Vincent tossed Iain a small red vial.

"Pour it over your wound," Vincent instructed.

"The earthquake's over-is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Jeff's eyes narrowed.

"I sense the latter." Vincent began to climb the steps. He clutched the staff in his hands, and braced himself upon it as he trudged up the long, dark road. "Tell the Professor to take the bomb to a point 167 degrees and approximately seven kilometers from the portal. That is where Gozer's heart is."

"Be careful, Vincent. Don't screw up here...we'll see you at Ground Zero in 20 minutes." Jeff shouted after him. "Alive, Vincent! Come back ALIVE!"

A hellish and deafening roar pierced the night sky. Vincent shot his glance skyward. Jeff and Iain looked around in a frantic panic.

"I must hurry!" Vincent shouted down at the two, "It will come from behind the moon any time; I must be there to meet it!"

Jeff grimaced. He had second thoughts.

"No, Vincent! Come down from there! We need you at Ground Zero!"

"Go!" Vincent waved back, "Our science is no more use here..."

Jeff began to follow him, but when a second piercing roar shook the mountainside, he slung Jeremy over his shoulder, and braced Iain's arm around his shoulder. "Belmont!" Jeff shouted.

"BELMONT!"

* * *

#360/#36154-32708r/61208r  
**100**


	15. June 8, 2004 Part 3

**Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer**

**GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001**

Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly

Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh

* * *

Egon watched from the gate, as several Ghostbusters rushed hurriedly around him, checking equipment, and some of the wizards tracing great runes in the dust.

Egon saw a great storm coming overhead, he saw the lightning dance across the clouds, and the loud thundering of the ground...and he heard the fury of Gozer.

"I don't like the sound of that..." Gabe remarked.

"Good guess." Jeff Nash interjected, walking up to the site with the wounded Iain Bennett hanging on to him, and the delirious Jeremy Hicks in his arms.

"Jeremy!" Fritz said. "Is he..."

"He got the crap knocked out of him by Vince's whammy." Jeff answered. "But he's himself again."

Fritz, having known Jeremy longer than anyone there, showed visible relief.

The concern in Ben's voice was noticeable as he examined Iain. "You all right, Mate?" Dr. Seward, who had been looking over Sarah Jones (fortunately, the group had packed some blankets, and one was now covering her nudity), gave Iain a quick look-over.

"I'll live..." Iain said.

"It would be better to get you to a hospital..." Seward noted.

Louis found himself transfixed by Jeremy. He had no clear memories of his own possession, only a few vague but powerful impressions. _Did I look like that afterwards?_

"Vincent scoped out where we need to set us up the bomb..." Jeff exhaled, as Fritz brought a blanket for their barely conscious teammate. "167 degrees from the portal, about five miles..."

Egon immediately looked in a direction almost exactly opposite the gate. "We need to move as soon as..."

"You may have defeated the Keymaster and the Gatekeeper..." a new voice broke in. Ray gulped-it was a voice he recognized, the voice of the person who'd violated his mind the day before. "But they are not the Shapeless Destructor's only minions..."

"Oh shit." Jeff cursed.

A massive horde of entities stood there. Horrors with dangling limbs, gaping maws, and jutting teeth and horns. Monsters that both resembled demonic versions of Terran animals-and things that the fevered imagination of the maddest madman would have had trouble dreaming up.

But perhaps the most horrific part was that standing at the front, leading the mob, were a band of human beings-if, having sold their souls to primal evil, they could still be referred to as such; they were the same cult that had orchestrated the transit of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to this infernal place. The black garbed fiend, the Herald of Gozer who had violated Ray's mind, stood in command of all of them.

"We'll handle this." Fallagar said simply, and moved forward. "The Childe of Scorpio is my responsibility."

The transformed Albrecht growled in agreement.

Ray had to fight off a weird moment of anxiety. _Maybe it's because "We'll handle this" is what Qui-Gon said before he took on Darth Maul, and we know how that turned out._

The Herald laughed. "I should have known they would send you. This is your ascension, foolish warlock: the reign of Volguus!"

A blast of blue light, pure telekinetic force, crashed against an unseen barrier. A blitzkrieg of angry violet lightning served as a retort, stopped by a force field fueled by hate.

Ray tried to reach the Jeep, but he was cut off-a giant slobbering fiend lunged at him, but was hit with a blast of pure mystic energy, throwing it back. One of the Hermetic wizards had saved him-but was then attacked from all sides by six more monsters.

Back at the Jeep, Ben was transfixed for a moment, the spectacle of it all washing over him. "DRIVE!" He heard Egon shout to Winston, and the Jeep lurched into motion. He saw that Louis and Fritz were the only others to reach the vehicle as the battle swirled around them.

"Get out of here, Fuckers!" Bo shouted. "We'll deal with these asswipes and catch up later!"

"There!" Egon shouted, pointing at a spot in the throng of enemies. Egon pulled his thrower, and leaned out the window. "Full stream!"

The four proton packs sparked to life, clearing a path through the enemies.

"They're not going to make it!" Venkman shouted.

"Yes. They. Are." Elizabeth Hawthorne Stantz replied firmly. She stood in a circle of wizards, all chanting. They raised their hands to the sky, and shouted in unison: **"Cari animi, adminiculum! Adsumate signo uto care!"**

A wind blew across the landscape.

From the summit, Vincent Belmont looked down at a pool of water at his feet. Touching the water, he saw in the ripples the image of the onslaught.

Vincent raised the staff high.

"Vincent Belmont sends his aid…"

"**Cari animi, adminiculum! Adsumate signo uto care!"**

"Armored warriors who would stay, upon the winds of yesterday, come fulfill your promise bold! From Hades deep, and ether cold!"

_"Not all ghosts are evil. Not all spirits desire Earth's destruction. The noble spirits, those who have given their all for their fellows, and those linked to us by love, we beg for your aid!"_

Bo Holbrook was not an easy man to shock. In seven years of fighting every kind of horror imaginable-out of control geomantic phenomenon, dimensionally-unstable witches, the dark god of Halloween-but this was one of the days he was genuinely impressed.

Ghosts appeared out of nowhere, to grapple and annoy the hordes serving Gozer. House ghosts, Domovyen, eccentric old uncles, even house pets.

And two guys wearing Nightsquad uniforms.

_"Get your ass in gear, Holbrook, before it gets shot off!"_ Shades McPherson barked at him. A spectral proton pack was on his back, and a spectral neutrona wand shot a blast of mystic energy at the ghost that was trying to sneak up on Bo from behind.

"Shades...Oh Man..." Bo breathed. It had been less than a year...he shook his head, he couldn't let this distract him.

_"Forget me already?"_ Ernie Slaughter quipped.

"I'm trying." Bo retorted. He had to keep moving, keep joking-before seeing his old friends again, even in spectral form, brought him to tears.

Liz looked up toward the dark clouds surrounding the summit. She saw lightning flash, and something from the flank of the army of creatures that threatened them.

Hundreds of glowing figures materialized.

Ghosts. Mounted samurai warriors, English long bowmen, Roman soldiers, Civil war cavalrymen, World War II soldiers, and even a legion of 300 Spartans rising from Hades, led by their king. All of the world's long lost heroes joined the fight against the minions of Gozer. It was as if the entire Ectosphere fought against extinction at the destructor's hands.

Jeff Nash fired his rail gun again. He was out of the mood slime rounds he'd brought already. Somehow, it had ended up to him to guard the weak, shattered forms of Jeremy Hicks and Sarah Jones. "I ain't letting them get you, J...not after going through all this trouble."

_"That goes double for me!"_ a voice Jeff never expected to hear again rang out. The slightly translucent form of John Lipsyte materialized next to him, spectral neutrona wand in hand. It hadn't even been two months since he'd made the ultimate sacrifice to save Los Angeles from Anubis.

Jeff smirked. "Glad to be working with you again, Lipsyte."

Venkman also received a bit of spectral help, if you wished to call it that: from a drippy, green, potato-shaped Class Five he was more than familiar with. "Dammit, Slimer, I'm trying to stop the undead hordes of Gozer from destroying the Earth, here! Could you slobber all over me later?"

The mountain shook, and the fury of Gozer resounded throughout the skies. Vincent walked on. When Vincent took his first step onto the summit, all went quiet.

It was a death quiet. It was a calm before the coming storm. Vincent stared at the moon. His gaze pierced the red veil, staring into the black abyss beyond, where the coming void awaited.

It emerged. As a great shadow separating from the very stars itself, its black form melted from around the scarlet moon. Great wings formed from the looming shadow, slowly taking shape.

"So..." Vincent murmured, gripping the staff with both hands, and locking one foot behind him, "...it begins."

Vincent spread his hands wide, as if to take flight. He took in a great breath, and his shout pierced the night sky, reverberating through the wasteland...

"TEMPESTAS!"

The staff flared up suddenly, and a bolt of power arced through the staff, and Vincent's body, dissipating as it reached skyward.

Thundering storm clouds swiftly rolled in from seemingly nowhere at all. The blanketing nimbus frothed and weaved, as some massive cauldron in the sky. A titanic blast of wind blew from behind Vincent; his own magic nearly knocking him from the summit. The wind stirred the storm clouds further, and the clouds became as black and terrible as the great formless shadow that resided above them.

Almost at once, the ground was wet as the very floodgates of heaven opened, bludgeoning the ground with a torrent of rainfall.

Vincent laughed long and hard. "COME, FALSE GOD! SHOW ME YOUR DIVINE PROVIDENCE!"

In answer, the gargantuan form of Gozer burst through the cloud cover, a terrible form to behold. the wings of the black shadow seemed to stretch from one end of the sky to the other, and its body was the form of a man; skeletal, seeing no face or features, save the two crimson eyes, burning furious, like coals from the fires that burned in Hell.

Vincent grinned sadistically, and gripped the staff once again, chuckling. "Come on!" Vincent taunted, "Let's see what you false idols are made of!"

* * *

The Jeep bounced along under Winston's expert driving. Everyone else in the vehicle had their throwers ready...but in a turn of events that served more to unnerve than reassure them, they didn't encounter any opposition.

Egon and Winston looked at each other as they got their first look at their destination. "That has got to be it..."

Louis nodded, not saying anything. He could feel it.

All but Ben and Fritz could remember, even if only on a subconscious level which was the case with Louis, what Gozer's temple had looked like inside the ziggurat atop 550 Central Park West. It had been an otherworldly structure of glass with Egyptian accents, set against an angry alien sky. A flight of steps had led up to the structure and at a small landing in them there had been two plinths which was where Louis and Dana had taken their places after being possessed by Vinz Clortho and Zuul.

The temple that the Ghostbusters saw before them was like the original's bigger and much more evil brother. The structure itself hovered on a shattered piece of the landscape above a yawning chasm, an angry scar across the planet's face that appeared to go on forever. The temple was five stories high, with each level lined with what appeared to be Babylonian columns. The first level was shaped like the letter 'T' with the longest wall facing them and dominated by a large glowing arched entrance. The second level was circular and acted as a base for the third which was square and topped by row upon row of statues of fantastic and frightening creatures. The fourth level was once again round and topped by a impressive dome, and atop the dome was the fifth and final level which was then topped by a spire not unlike one you'd find on a cathedral. Maybe that's what it was supposed to be, a black cathedral build by the followers of Gozer and the souls of those claimed by the Destructor. It was impossible to guess how big the place had to be with them being so far away and that only served to make their hearts sink even lower when they saw the bridge they would have to drive across.

It stretched on for what seemed like miles, twisting and curving and yet completely unsupported. Like the Great Wall of China, the span featured small structures that were spaced out every several dozen feet, and each was topped with a statue of a Terror Dog. Winston hoped that they'd stay statues as gunned the engine, and the Jeep began to roar across it to the temple. There was a bridge to the glowing structure. Winston gunned the engine, and the Jeep roared across it to the temple.

The Jeep skittered to a stop, and the five jumped out, guns at ready. "Winston, the bomb..." Egon said. "Ben, you're probably the second sturdiest here-help him with it."

"Not saying much..." Ben rolled his eyes.

"Fritz-I will need your help when it's in position." Egon finished.

Fritz nodded. Then a strange smirk crossed his face.

"What?" Louis asked.

"It's amazing the things that go through your mind at a time like this. I just realized that for once I'm actually the youngest person here..."

Ben and Winston took the bomb out of the truck and placed it on the ground, near the black, pulsating crystal at the center of the structure. Egon nodded, and Ben and Winston redrew their throwers; Fritz clamped his to his belt and moved to aid Egon.

"Why aren't we being attacked? Doesn't Gozer know we're here?" Ben asked.

"Maybe not." Winston answered. "No more than one of us'd know when a virus reached our brain-it may not have expected anything to ever get past every other defense."

* * *

"I have waited over fourteen hundred years for this day..." the black-garbed woman snarled. "I will not allow anyone to stop this now-especially not you!"

She gestured. An arc of sheer telekinetic force, driven by hate, sprang forth. The aqua blue energies crashed against an invisible barrier. The target was pushed back, but the field held.

"It is not for you to decide, Lady Scorpio..." Fallagar replied, his voice firm. "And I have the utmost faith in those who _will_ determine the future..."

"Don't call me that!" she howled. "I refuse to be bound by the games you and the others play!" This time the blast came from underneath, catching him off guard. The force drove him upward; a second telekinetic blast caught him full force, throwing him a good fifty meters into one of the numerous outcroppings dotting the dismal landscape. "I am the Herald of Gozer!"

"Torb! Sloar! Advance!" the Gozer cult's second in command, the dark wizard who'd been called "Ragnarok", called out.

"I don't like the sound of that..." Jeff muttered. A creature that reminded Jeff of a tyrannosaurus Rex…except for the fact that it had not one, but TWO heads. Muscle and sinew hung from the creature like old rags. The only things holding the creature together, seemingly, were the scant sheathes of silvery plating covering its body.

Behind it, the ground ripped asunder, exposing a creature with a gaping maw, belching fire and sulphur, with flaming tentacles, shrieking it's unholy hatred.

"Yippe-ki-yay, Motherfucker!" Bo shouted, having managed to jump on the Torb's back. It seemed to annoy the creature, and it started to try and buck him off-leaving it less able to defend itself from the angry Garou who moved to attack it.

Jeff was drawing a bead on the Sloar when something grabbed him.

"Jeff!" John Lipsyte shouted.

Jeff realized it was another Sloar. The tentacles started to burn him...it hoisted him toward its fiery mouth...Jeff struggled to avoid that fate. _Dammit...to go out like this..._

And suddenly, there was a flash of blue light. The Sloar howled in pain and dropped Jeff. It's tentacle was frozen.

_What the fuck?_ Jeff wondered.

One of the Garou leaped in and sliced the tentacle off. A wizard blasted it. But just as that Sloar went down, the other grabbed the werewolf and the mage, and devoured them.

* * *

Fritz was trying not to think about Chelsea. Trying not to wonder if he'd ever get to see her again when the ground lurched violently, throwing him into the air.

He tumbled, heard shouting and a cracking noise. Before he could react, he was hanging over a precipice, Ben holding on to his left ankle.

"I got Egon!" Winston shouted; Egon was dangling from his grip.

He realized what had happened-they'd been hit with another massive tremor, and it had nearly thrown him and Professor Spengler into the gorge surrounding Gozer's heart.

"I got good news and bad news..." Louis whined. "The good news is that the bomb didn't move...the bad news is that the bridge fell apart and took our truck with it!"

"Worry...about that...later..." Winston grunted, straining to haul Egon up. It would've been easier if he hadn't been weakened by his earlier ordeal, and Egon wasn't wearing a sixty pound pack...

"I...got you...mate..." Ben was straining even more, not being in as good a shape as Winston.

"AAAHHH!" they heard Louis shout.

"Louis!" the four cried in unison.

Louis's nightmare was standing before him. The image was shadowy, and translucent, but unmistakably that of a terror dog.

_"You..."_ it's voice came into his mind. _"The spell the sorcerer worked made my Host incapable of supporting me any longer...but you...pathetic specimen that you are, you were my last Host...I won't need to take time I don't have to prepare you first, because you are already primed..."_

His instincts were telling him to run. To hide. To pee himself and faint, like he'd done more than once before.

Except...

There was nowhere to run.

The bomb that was Earth's last hope was right behind him. If Vinz Clortho became solid again, he would destroy it, and secure Gozer's victory.

If Vinz Clortho became solid again, it would be a death sentence to everyone he ever cared about. _Mom. Andrew. Lawrence. Ted and Annette Fleming. Janine. _

_"Hold still, Host...and I will make it easy..."_

_**Dana.**_

The translucent terror dog leaped for him.

No. He was not going to run. He was not going to hide. This wasn't then. He wasn't helpless this time.

Louis Bartholomew Tully's face hardened into a sneer. With a shout as feral as the terror dog's, he thumbed the trigger on the neutrona blaster and fired.

The shot slammed the shocked demonic minion dead on...it howled indignantly, writhing in the beam.

"Not. This. Time."

With a fluid motion, like he'd been doing it for years, his left hand found the ghost trap lashed to his proton pack, and threw it.

_No. More. Nightmares._

He stomped the pedal, and the cone of light sucked the weakened, yelping Vinz Clortho into it's innards.

"Holy cow..." Winston breathed.

Louis stumbled. He felt just about ready to faint.

"Well..." Egon, himself gasping for air, clasped a hand over Louis's shaking shoulder. "Well done, Louis."

Winston helped pull Fritz up-at one point, the younger man was about ready to try to hit the emergency release on his pack. "Glad I didn't have to blow it..." Fritz said with a weak smirk. "I'd hate to have to listed to Joey complain about the $10,000 hit to the budget..."

* * *

Vincent swept the staff over his head, and his shout shook the mountainside.

"FULMEN!"

A white bolt of lightning danced across the clouds, and lanced out at Gozer. The stroke of lightning pierced it, and tore gaping holes in its wings. Its mammoth form fell from the sky, crashing on the wastes below.

Vincent had only a moment to wait before a great shadowy skull loomed over behind him, and opened its abyssal maw. Vincent spun around, and grew wide eyed. Reflexively, he held the wizard's staff aloft. A cascade of ebon fire poured forth from the jaws of Gozer, engulfing the form of Vincent.

"TUUM INFERNIS IGNIS NON INJURIS MAGUS!"

The flames instead parted around Vincent, the tumultuous heat only forcing sweat to trickle down the sides of his face.

Gozer reared up; his great mass an eclipse, blocking the little light that the scarlet moon had to offer. Darkest shadow and fierce flame surrounded Vincent as its enormous claws gripped the sides of the mountain. Its tremendous roar shook the ground on which Vincent stood, and Vincent's footing faltered. Yet, he stood firm.

"TU NEQUEO PRAETERIRE!"

The great beast loomed, but fell back. Vincent raised his arms higher, and wider.

"TU NEQUEO PRAETERIRE!"

The beast raised a mighty claw in defiance, and it fell with terrible strength and speed. The great black claw exploded into white fire, and it howled in unholy pain, raising its still-burning hand to the skies.

A blinding white light shone from the staff, and Vincent held it high.

"SACRES IGNIS! EXIRE, ET FALSUM DEUM CONSUMERE!"

Blue fire erupted from the staff, and engulfed the shadow, and the flames silhouetted the great horror of Gozer. It was a fearsome deity indeed. Its skeletal form burned and writhed, and it clutched its horrific skeletal face. Its titanic ebony wings withered away, consumed by the exorcist fire.

Vincent stood triumphant, but felt weak. He felt the hot wetness and the copper taste of blood on his lips as it trickled from his nose and beyond his chin. The hair on his temples turned a flat grey, and Vincent's weather beaten face had taken on an aged look. He fell to one knee.

The great beast tried once again to crush Vincent from beneath its clawed fist.

Vincent used both hands to raise the staff above him, and gave a shout. His bellow resounded for miles around.

"SEPARARE!"

And the staff came down, sundering the summit. The fist of Gozer came down, as well, landing its blow. Gozer fell into the chasm below, and Vincent fell from the mountainside, his cry of pain drowned by the great thundering pain of Gozer, and the sundering of the mountain...

* * *

Iain cleaved a Torb in two. Excalibur was soaked with the ichors of a number of enemies he thought Professor Spengler would have trouble keeping track of.

The black garbed Nephandus-"Ragnarok"-who had performed the ritual that tore open the hole to Gozer's realm, shouted a curse. Black fire played on his hands, and shot them at Iain like a blowtorch...

Excalibur shone, and the black fire was deflected.

Both were surprised by this turn of events, but having been on the battlefield before Iain recovered his wits quicker. It's the sword of Arthur...the magic of Merlin or the Lady of the Lake is watching out for me.

In another circumstance, he might have hesitated-but he was at war just as he'd been in Iraq a year before, and in a swift motion he swung the sword...

The cultist's head and body flew in separate directions.

* * *

"We're committed now, aren't we?" Ben said, taking a moment to look at the gaping chasm surrounding them, including where the pathway they'd driven across used to be. The pathway-and the vehicle itself-were still falling, for all they knew.

"There's no turning back now." Winston nodded, gravely. "But we knew it could come to this all along."

"So did John. And Ernie, and Shades." Fritz added, taking off his glasses, and putting them in his left chest pocket.

"I got no regrets." Louis said, sounding more confident than any of them-Egon and Winston included-could ever remember hearing him. "I just beat the monster that's haunted my nightmares for the last twenty one years-as far as I'm concerned, I'm going out on the highest note I ever could!"

"All I need is finish the final sequence..." Egon said. "As soon as I push this button, the overload starts." He looked at them. "There was no need to prime the remote trigger, so sixty seconds is all that we will have."

All four men looked at each other, and nodded.

Professor Egon Spengler nodded back, and jabbed the button with his gloved hand.

**Activation -60**

* * *

_Ridiculous sub creature..._ The voice of Gozer roared. _I sense the stench of all of those who ever opposed me about you...the ones who were not gods...and the one who's sorcery defied me before them..._

The blast of hellfire swirled around, pounding through the wizard's Parma Magica...Vincent's coat and flight suit were on fire...

_You are not a God either..._

A tendril physically slammed Vincent into the stratum wall.

_But I am._

_And all of them-all of the pretenders, all of the fools who ever laughed at me, all of the pathetic, simpering mortals on your world. All of Xodiac's offspring will fear me. Iaoue Himself will grovel for my forgiveness..._

_AND I WILL NOT GRANT IT!_

Vincent screamed as the demonic monster slammed him into the wall of the chasm again, feeling his bones grind and break under the horror's attack.

* * *

Ray Stantz gripped his proton thrower. It was hot in his hands, even through his gloves-as they guy who'd built and programmed it, he knew exactly how to disable the auto-shutdown.

Liz Hawthorne Stantz was right beside him.

"I always said I knew I'd never die alone..." Ray said out loud.

"You never were." she replied, knowingly.

* * *

Vincent felt the pain engulfing him.

_"...Look at you, you hypocrite...didn't the Bible, YOUR book you hold so dear say 'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live?' Deuteronomy 18, verses 10 and following: 'Let no one be found among you who sacrifices his son or daughter in the fire, who practices divination or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or spiritualist or who consults the dead. Anyone who does these things is detestable to the Lord, and because of these detestable practices the Lord your God will drive out those nations before you." Adam retorted. _

_Was Bestler right? Have I been living a lie? How could a just and loving God condemn his servant to Hell for being born with the Gift? WHY?_

He realized, through the fog of pain, that Gozer had stopped beating him.

The demonic bird creature looked away...

...to the direction, Vincent knew, its black heart lay.

_WHAT...IS THIS?_ the horror roared. _THE SUB CREATURES DARE?_

The Destructor started to more to leave...

_**NO! **_Vincent's mind screamed. He could not allow the monster to leave. He could not allow the monster to save itself.

He felt the tickle of a familiar, but dangerous power. Twilight...the uncontrolled flow of magic through a magus's body. A power that could warp him...or even destroy him...

But any other alternative was now gone.

His grip tightened around the Staff of Merlin. It glowed with a bright, white light. He weakly pulled out the rosary hanging around his neck, and wrapped it around the staff.

_God help me...I ask not for the power to save myself. I ask not for the forgiveness of my many sins. I even ask not for you to smite this unholy horror. I ask you for the power to stop this monster long enough for my friends to succeed-because I know they will! Give me this strength, even if it costs my life!_

Gozer looked back at him.

Vincent Abraham Belmont felt the power course through him. The magic burning his body from the inside out; a spell of a dozen magnitudes or more, of a kind a human body was never meant to contain...

"_**THY WILL BE DONE!"**_

The form of Vulguus Zildrohar, Gozer the Gozarian, the Lord of the Sebouillia, ripped apart in a blaze of white fire. The mighty demon howled his insult and pain to the skies.

* * *

Blood and ichors stained the fields. The bodies of many a werewolf, and many a wizard, and uncounted demonic hordelings, lay piled on the ground.

Peter Venkman spared a glance, seeing King Albrecht literally rip a hordeling in half.

He saw Nate Inugumi and Gabe Martin about to overwhelmed by two giant trolls.

He made one desperate glance, hoping to find Ray in all of this. He was never going to see his wife or his children again, but it would be nice to see his little brother (in spirit if not in blood) one last time...

Slimer squealed, and pointed.

The summoning circle that the Hermetic wizards had used to call Slimer and all the other friendly ghosts had been forgotten about in the press of battle.

But it was glowing. And a shape of the purest white light began to appear...

* * *

"Fifteen Seconds!" Egon shouted.

_Regrets?_ Winston Zeddemore thought to himself. _That I won't watch my daughter grow up. That I won't be there for Kaila. But I know I will see them again some day..._

* * *

_It's attention is clearly back on me...I will not survive it long, but it will be enough. It has to be enough._

_Goodbye, Jill..._

* * *

The white light blasted into the skies, heading toward the heart of Gozer

* * *

"ZERO!" Egon shouted.

The globe of elements began to vibrate. The whine of the attached cyclotrons reached deafening intensity...

Matter and anti-matter. Fire, Earth, Water, and Air, and mana. Science and Magic. All met, for a fraction of a second, in a metaphysical orgy of conflicting forces, pushing against each other and all around them...

...Reaching a indescribable climax that had reality itself howling an orgasm of pain as it was ripped apart.

* * *

_**NOOOOOOOOOO!**_ The horror shouted, as the very fabric of it's dark realm began to shred, the shockwave of force spreading from the temple in which the creature's black heart lay.

The shock wave slammed into it, blasting the monster apart, like a sand sculpture in a wind tunnel. As it was destroyed, its shape seemed to shift...for just a moment, a Tyrannosaurus...a Sloar...a human woman with severe features...

...and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, who smiled at him gratefully, and mouthed the words "Thank you" as he was shattered into nothingness.

Vincent Abraham Belmont nodded in return, waiting for the shockwave to claim him. _They did it._

But instead of the destruction he expected, his world was engulfed in white light...

* * *

_Are we alive?_ Louis wondered to himself. _Or is this what death is like..._

He thought of Dana, and Janine, and his family...he'd miss them.

From the white light, an image appeared. Female, with long blonde hair...familiar, somehow. Not actually there...more like a dream the he had forgotten...

_"While it takes time, you find someone else. Someone all your own-someone who loves you and only you. Not Peter Venkman or Andre Wallance. Not Egon Spengler. You."_

Even the voice seemed familiar...almost like Janine's daughter Eden, now that he thought about it...

* * *

Ben removed his glasses with one hand and wiped his watering eyes that stung from the nearly blinding light. _I'm sorry, Junior... I'm sorry, Andrea_

* * *

The Herald of Gozer stood, robes in tatters, a few straggling strings of red hair framing the dark green eye showing from under her torn hood, glowering contempt for her opponent. The scythe of pure psionic force rose over her head, ready to cleave off another limb if given a chance.

The Lord of the Steady Wind stood there, expression more serene, as another blast of pure electric force arced and swirled in his outstretched left hand.

She suddenly turned, as the skies were filled by white light.

"NO!" she howled.

"Fulmenius gladio!" he shouted, driving the attack home.

She stood shocked-in more than one way-for a moment, she looked less angry, less inhuman...and more like a frightened child. She didn't resist as the lightning blade tore into her abdomen...

_I told you they would do it..._

The man called Zandrik Fallagar allowed himself just a second of satisfaction as the white light consumed them both...

* * *

Vincent gasped in awe.

A giant woman, pale, the size of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, with flaming hair and wings, stood looking down on him. "Seraphic Radiance..." he realized.

He saw everyone else, and knew that they would be all right.

The Seraphim nodded, and the light became brighter than the Sun.

The beating of white wings, and he lost consciousness, a soft voice in his ears...

_"Well done, thou good and faithful servant..."_

* * *

**GBUK Headquarters  
7:45 AM GMT**

* * *

All at once, Rosey could've sworn she'd gone deaf as she could no longer hear the half-dozed screeching Containment Unit alarms.

She opened her eyes and she could see that Ben was as equally perplexed. Whilst dust still trailed down from the ceiling and the fluorescents swung from side to side it was as if they were in the eye of the storm, but all of the Containment Unit diagnostics were okay even if not 'peachy', and the machine was humming contently to itself.

An uneasy silence hung over the building and perhaps the world, even Mary Sue was stunned into a rare moment of quiet reflection... Leaving the two young adults to wonder 'just how many might have survived?'

* * *

**Tonnes Quarry  
7:45 AM GMT **

* * *

"Mrs. Spengler!" Joey Williams shouted. "Look!"

"The portal!" Kylie shouted. "What's it doing?"

The swirling tear in the sky began to distort and shrink. An unholy howling could be heard from it.

Then a blast of white light streamed from the hole in the sky, striking the ground a good quarter mile away from them.

When the light faded, the hole was gone. The darkness in the sky began to fade. It became just another late spring morning in England.

"What just happened?" Robert shouted. "Did we win, or..."

Janine unholstered her particle thrower. "Only one way to find out..." she said, gesturing toward the impact site.

"What's that noise?" Eduardo asked.

"Sounds like whistling..." Tommy Simpson commented.

Recognition dawned. "The bloody Colonel Bogey March!"

Ghostbusters, magi, and werewolves were in formation, like a triumphant army. Which, actually, they were. At the point, the four Founders of Ghostbusters International, the only beings to have ever gone up against the ancient horror more than once-and come back to tell about it both times.

Unsurprisingly, the scene disintegrated into chaotic shouts of triumph.

"Well..." Eduardo told Kylie, deadpan. "They're not dead."

"We came, we saw, we **blew his fucking ass up**!" Bo Holbrook yelled, lighting a stogie. Jen Spengler rolled her eyes, but gripped his arm a little tighter.

"You gotta stop scaring me like that!" Janine chided jokingly, the worry melting away.

"I'm sorry." Egon replied simply, just content to be with her again.

It didn't take long for it to turn into a group hug, which even Louis was invited to join.

"You're such a glory hog." Iain remarked at Ben as the spectacled Ghostbuster approached, but the statement was underpinned with a broad grin as he heartily hugged his comrades, sending dust pluming from Ben's head and shoulders and causing Tommy to wince in pain.

"Ow. Ow. I pulled my shoulder muscles, Iain." Tommy pleaded, but still exhilarated and euphoric.

Jill pressed through the crowd until she found who she was looking for. Vincent Belmont was being supported by Gabe Martin and Nate Inugami. He looked so pale-for a moment, her heart stopped again...until he looked up at her with weary-but joyful-eyes.

"I think we lost the connection before you heard my answer..." Jill told him, tears in her eyes. "The answer is yes..."

Morgond, the Magus Dominus scanned the crowd. He shook his head gently, with a little bit of sadness in his eye, for he knew that at least one face was not in it...

"It may not be candy and teddy bears-but we'll take it!" Winston quipped. He looked at the horizon, at the Sun shining its golden light on a brand new day. A day the world very nearly didn't have. **"I love this planet!"**

* * *

**New York City  
3: 45 AM EDT **

* * *

Sleep was just about to finally overtake the nervous and scared children when they were jolted to attention.

_"This is Vernon Fenwick, Channel Six News, and our affiliates at Sky News in England have just told us that the mysterious hole in the sky that appeared above Tonnes Quarry, south of London, has vanished. And..._" Fenwick held his hand to his earpiece. "_And that we are receiving live, raw footage that shows members of Ghostbusters International, having apparently dealt with the situation..."_

Images began to play across the screen. Perhaps no one in the room was more joyous than Eric Stantz, seeing not only the father who had disappeared the previous evening, but...

"Dad and Mom?" he laughed, tears in his eyes. "Sometimes she surprises even me..."

The Spengler Twins held onto each other and squealed as the pan of the camera found their parents, holding each other in much the same way.

And when Peter Venkman winked at the camera, a weary Cheshire grin in place, Oscar, Jessica, and their mother, shook their heads, and hugged each other tight.

* * *

**Los Angeles, California  
12: 45 AM PDT **

* * *

_"Repeating, Sky News in England is reporting that the mysterious hole in the sky has disappeared, and the members of Ghostbusters International who went into it have apparently returned..."_

There were whoops of victory all around her, but Chelsea Aberdeen couldn't join in. Yet.

"There's J!" Chad exclaimed. "And Jeff!"

"Who's that with Doctor Stantz?" Leon wondered.

It wasn't until the camera panned to one shell-shocked face, looking straight at the camera-as though Dr. Fritz Baugh was looking through the thousands of miles straight at her-that she felt a wave of relief and gratitude. She broke down in tears, saying a silent prayer of thanks.

* * *

**June 12th, 2004  
Four Days Later **

* * *

The winds blew calmly over the headquarters of the Ghostbusters UK.

The membership of Ghostbusters International was assembling once more-this time, thanks to the generosity of the Magus Dominus, the Order of Hermes would be supplying a teleportation spell to get the lot of them back to the United States.

With a couple of notable exception...

"You sure you want to do this, Spengs?" Venkman asked. His old friend was rechecking the air surfaces of the ECTO-4, a half-eaten Twinkie in his hand. "The teleportation circle is a _lot _faster..."

"True." Egon agreed, finishing the Twinkie. Unlike Venkman, he was back in his familiar blue flight suit. "But the ECTO-4 has to get back home somehow, and it would take a rather gruesome amount of magical resource to teleport it-so why do so when it can get back to New York under its own power?" He gave Venkman a mischievous look. "Besides, it's not like I'm traveling alone this time."

Janine appeared with a clipboard, wearing her matching flight suit. "I wrote down all those numbers like you said, Egon-and they look more or less like what you said they'd be." She handed him the clip board as Venkman smirked and rolled his eyes. "Now can we get goin'? The Twins' fifth birthday's tomorrow, you know..."

"Yeah, well, just don't crash into the ocean when you're distracted." Venkman said cheerfully. "If you died like that after surviving the Second Coming of Gozer, I'd have no choice but to belly laugh rather inappropriately at the funeral."

He left them to finish preparations for takeoff as he walked back to the assemblage. _Yeah...I got more reason to get home quicker. My wife's still back home, probably ready to kill me for all this..._

Ray and Liz had already left-the Magus Dominus himself had ordered her to take a month off after this. It was too good a chance to pass up, and they'd already arranged to teleport home, collect Eric, and spend a month with her family in Nova Scotia.

* * *

"I have to once again offer my congratulations, Vincent." Fritz said. "August, you said?"

"That is correct." Vincent nodded. "Jill and I decided we'd wasted enough time over the years...seems to be endemic to Ghostbusters romances, doesn't it? Anyway, we hope to have everything wrapped up here so we can return in July and finalized everything after that."

"I suppose to everyone else, it might seem sort of shotgun." Ben Sr. chuckled. "Though let me remind everyone there are dangers to getting married too quickly..."

"Then what about you, then, Dr. Baugh?" Ben Jr. looked at him conspiratorially. "I understand you've run up quite a bill conversing with Miss Aberdeen..."

"Erm..." Fritz looked away. "Let's not get a head of ourselves. We've only been actually dating a few months...I haven't even known her quite three years yet..."

"Looks like they're about ready go to, Fritzy..." Bo came up, slapping him on the shoulder. "Unless you want to stay here and learn how to drink tea and call soccer 'football', we'd better get moving."

"Think how good it will be to see Miss Aberdeen in person again." Vincent smirked.

"Ye Gods, we won't see them for a week after this..." Jeff rolled his eyes. "Hey...anyone seen Jeremy?"

There were some worried looks all around.

* * *

"How in the hell did you deal with having done that, Mister Tully?"

Louis looked around at Jeremy.

"Um...you can call me Louis..." Louis replied nervously. "Considering that we're both in a club with only two or four members, depending on how you look at it, I'd feel weird if you kept this 'Mister Tully' stuff."

Jeremy nodded. "Okay..."

Louis sighed as he wiped his glasses. "As to how to handle it...well, I threw myself into my work, chased a few gullible Eastern European models...and spent twenty one years waking up at least once a week with screaming nightmares. That help?"

"So much to look forward to." Jeremy smiled wanly.

"At least you have something I didn't-someone to talk about it to. Someone who really does know exactly what you went through." Louis told him. "I couldn't even talk about it to Dana, really, though we tried a time or two. Um..." Louis looked around. "Speaking of Gate Keepers, how did it go, yesterday?"

"Hah?" Jeremy was shocked. "How did you know.?"

"I wish I could say it was some special Keymaster insight, but I just happened to be heading to pee when you snuck out..."

The events of the day before played over again in Jeremy's mind's eye...

_When he entered, he noticed that there were less than ten students in the entire building. That there were few chairs and most of them were filled with parents waiting for their children; he decided to lean against a bare wall until class was over._

_That took about fifteen minutes._

"_The little buggers still won't put the sparring equipment away by themselves. They have no idea how much this stuff costs," she stated to no one in particular._

"_Well, you know they could balance the budget for this place. Give you some time off," he said as he stooped over to help her pick up._

_She didn't look at him. "That would be so kind of them. But I'm gonna hafta close this place down if business doesn't pick up before long."_

"_I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure the neighborhood will miss it."_

"_Not really. The neighborhood seems to want this place to go because they say that the violence at schools and at the parks seems to be rising, and they blame me."_

"_That's just wrong of them. And how do they know that it's your students?"_

"_Because the fights or whatever seem to be with kids that know karate."_

"_Oh. Well, you only teach it, what they do with it after they leave here is not your fault, it's theirs," he said, trying to comfort her._

"_They still blame me because I teach it."_

"_So? They blame you because it's easier than blaming the TV. But that's no reason to give up. Just move if you can."_

"_I've searched everywhere around here, and there's no place that has the adequate open floor space for a dojo of this size, or any size for that matter."_

"_Well, you could always relocate," he suggested._

"_Where? There are already more well established dojos in the area..."_

"_I meant to LA." he said "With me."_

_At that statement, she got a surprised look on her face. It was true that they had gotten close, even though it was mostly Vinz doing the talking, but part of it was the feelings that Jeremy himself felt the first time he laid eyes on her. And he knew that she was interested in him just by the way she looked at him. But he needed to know if it was love or just the animal instincts of some otherworldly dogs._

"_I...I...don't know," was all she could respond with. At that point she wondered if every member of GBI that had a near-death experience with a member of the opposite sex fell in love that fast. There just seemed to be a quality about him that just seemed irresistible to her, but couldn't figure out what it was. She was trying to figure out something to say when he responded._

"_It's ok if you don't. I'd understand completely. I mean it's a big step in such a short relationship, but it's up to you."_

_She just stared at him. Every boyfriend she had, both of them, had wanted to move in the same day they met. But they never listened to what she wanted. This American left it up to her if she wanted to move in with him. No wonder she liked him._

_He took a huge chance at saying that, with a fifty-fifty chance of the outcome he wanted. But no matter what, his feelings for her couldn't be ignored._

"_You could move after you get your affairs here in order. It doesn't have to be tomorrow," he added with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, knowing full well that he had to go back to America in the morning._

_"I need time..." she finally said. "I'm sorry, but..."_

_"I understand." Jeremy nodded, feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach._

"It could have gone better." Jeremy admitted. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with an email address on it. "But it could have gone a lot worse, too!" _And she did kiss me before I left..._

* * *

"Has there been any word of the Archmage?" King Albrecht asked the Magus Dominus.

Morgond shook his head, but a slight fond grin was visible under his beard. "Zandrik is very difficult to destroy-and he is of a kind that doesn't feel time the way even one such as myself does. He disappeared in the Sixteenth Century, and nobody in the Order saw him for four hundred years; we thought he'd been lost to Final Twilight. Then he turned up at the Special Tribunal of 2122 Pisces... It's just a matter of when-but he _will_ be back, and probably when it seems least likely."

* * *

"So is this really all over?" Eduardo asked. "Is Gozer gone for good?"

"Well, technically, Uncle Egon doesn't think so." Jen answered. "A primal, supernatural entity such as that is almost impossible to completely, utterly, irretrievably annihilate. It is entirely possible that it's etheric substance may eventually recongeal." She raised one eyebrow. "But he estimated it probably won't be for at least three million years."

"Good enough for me." Eduardo replied.

Mary Sue, meanwhile, was whining. "But after all this I never got to meet Egon!"

Venkman rubbed his aching temple. "Now I **really** know why Spengs went home separate from us..."

"Tell Dr. Stantz we'll keep an eye on the quarry and send him bi-weekly PKE reports and then monthly ones according to the timetable he set us." Tommy asked as he shook Winston's hand.

"If I didn't he'd probably keep asking me for them." He smiled in return and then faced the two youngest members of GBUK. "Ben, Rosey, thanks for watching over things here... if your Containment Unit had blown up things might've gone differently."

"Piece of cake." Rosey joked.

He then turned to look at both Eric and Adam "And you guys should know, there's positions for both of you at the Fort if you're interested in taking a sabbatical. Just ask."

"I'll keep that in mind Winston, my contract's up with these guys in a few months." Adam smirked.

As Winston bid his goodbyes Barney and Irena bid their own.

"C'mon, you have to go to Tijuana!" Barney insisted. "There's some fine tail out there, and I mean that literally."

"As unique a trip I'm sure it'll be... I'm needed here." Leon replied, without the least bit of sorrow at missing a road trip with the Ragabash.

"I'll try find some time where I can take a vacation... I think you'll like Shannon." She smiled and let a moment pass before shaking his hand. "Thank you."

"It was for Gaia." Leon replied and the three parted company.

* * *

As the light of the teleportation spell faded, the members of the Ghostbusters UK exhaled.

"Well, this has definitely been a learning experience." Ben said.

"Please, don't tell me you're going soft in your old age?" Iain chuckled. "This is the part about all of the lessons about friendship and faith?"

"No." Ben shook his head. "The learning experience is this: next time Iain wants to go digging around in Solitary Confinement-don't let him!"

Iain pretended to hit Ben as the group turned and walked back into the former insane asylum they called home.

* * *

Semi-Standard Disclaimer:  
Ghostbusters is owned by Columbia/Sony; Created by Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis. Developed for television by J. Micheal Straczynski  
Ghostbusters West Coast created by Vincent Belmont and Andy Harness; Characters are owned by their respective creators  
Ghostbusters UK, Ghostbusters Arcane Division, ECTO Canada, Ghostbusters Nightsquad owned by their respective creators

Additional Notes:  
Some elements of the supernatural world in this story were swiped from Ars Magica, Werewolf: The Apocalypse, and Mage: The Ascension; Ars Magica is owned by Atlas Games; the World of Darkness is owned by White Wolf.

* * *

#360/#36154-32708r/61208r  
**100**


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